/ 1, 


THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 


t 


•     BEYOND    THE    ' 


THE  '  V 


YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND 


CONTAINING 


ADMONITIONS  FOR  THE   ERRING;  COUNSELLOR   THE   TEMPTED. 

ENCOURAGEMENT   TOR   THE  DESPONDING; 

HOPE   TOR  THE  FALLEN. 


BY  DANIEL  C.  EDDY. 


I  have  written  unto  you  young  men,  because  ye  are  strong.  —  John. 


BOSTON: 
DAYTON  AND  WENTWORTH, 

86  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

1854. 


x          " 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

DAYTON   AND  -WENTWORTH, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


ANBOVEE: 

J.  ».  FLAGG   AND   W.  H.  WARD-WELL, 

Stereotypers  and  Printers. 


EEV.  GEOKGE  B.  CHEEVER,  D.D., 

WHOSE  LABORS  HAVE  BEEN  UNCEASING  TO  DISSEMINATE 

PURITAN  PRINCIPLES 

t« 

AMONG 

THE    YOUNG    MEN    OF    OUR    LAND, 

Ss  tjjfs  toorfc  most  respectfulls  fnscrI6rtJ, 

BY 
THE  AUTHOR. 


2051239 


PREFACE. 


THIS  volume  is  given  to  the  public,  by  the  advice 
of  some  of  the  author's  most  judicious  friends,  who 
cherish  the  hope  that  it  may  be  the  means  of  shield- 
ing the  young  from  crime  and  leading  them  to  the 
practice  of  virtue  and  the  pursuit  of  holiness. 

The  lectures  were  originally  delivered  to  a  large 
congregation  of  young  men,  and  it  has  been  thought 
best,  that  the  direct,  personal  appeal  of  the  pulpit 
should  be  retained,  and  such  alterations  only,  made, 
as  would  adapt  them  to  general  circulation. 

The  object  of  the  book  is,  to  impress  upon  the  minds 
of  young  men,  such  lessons  of  virtue  as  will  render 
them  useful  and  successful  in  life,  and  by  presenting 
the  old  Puritan  view  of  sinful  pleasures,  lead  the 
reader  to  cultivate  the  old  Puritan  integrity. 

While  innocent  amusements  have  been  encouraged, 
dangerous  amusements  have  been  condemned,  and 


PREFACE. 

the  mind  directed  to  healthy,  reasonable  sources  of 
recreation,  which  have  been  furnished  so  amply  by 
nature  and  by  God  —  amusements  which  embrace 
utility  with  recreation,  and  pleasure  with  profit. 

An  effort  has  been  made  to  blend  instruction  with 
exhortation  —  encouragement  with  warning,  and  by 
holding  up,  side  by  side,  the  woes  of  vice  and  the  re- 
wards of  virtue,  lead  the  young  to  hate  the  one,  and 
love  the  other. 

The  earnest  wish,  and  fervent  prayer  of  the  author 
is,  that  the  work  may  do  good,  and  prove  a  source 
of  profit  to  the  young  men  into  whose  hands  it  may 
chance  to  fall. 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE    I. 

THE  ELEMENTS  OF  A  MANLY  COURSE. 

Wealth,  birth,  intellect,  do  not  constitute  manliness  —  An  effort 
for  the  promotion  of  virtue  —  An  interest  in  the  elevation  of 
the  race  —  Submission  to  the  demands  of  God. 13 

LECTURE   II. 
YOUTH;  ITS  ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES. 

Formation  of  character — Napoleon  —  Doddridge  —  Baxter  —  The 
mistakes  of  youth  —  The  ardor  of  youth  —  Youth  is  a  period 
of  great  results  —  Alexander  —  Cortes  —  Bacon  —  Newton  — 
Pitt  —  Calvin  —  Melancthon  —  Pope  —  Dwight  —  Adams,  .  35 

LECTURE   III. 
FOUR  SOURCES  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE. 

Industry  —  Dignity  of  labor  —  Uses  of  labor  —  Frugality  —  Small 
expenses  —  Temperance  —  Illustrations  —  Honesty — Worth  of 
character  —  The  rewards  of  honesty, 57 

LECTURE   IV. 
INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS. 

Need  of  recreation  —  Causes  of  the  failure  to  secure  amusement  - 
Utility  must  be  combined  with  pleasure  —  Useful  reading  — 
Music  —  Traveling  —  Literary  lectures  —  Social  visiting  —  So- 
cial gatherings  —  Paintings,  and  other  works  of  art  —  Public 
and  private  worship, 81 


10  CONTENTS. 

LECTURE    V. 
DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS. 

The  theatre  —  Dancing — Gambling — Social  drinking  —  Objec- 
tions to  them  —  They  abuse  time  —  Destroy  health  —  Lead 
to  prodigality  —  They  are  heart-corrupting  —  They  are  soul- 
destroying,  .  .  .  - 104 

LECTURE   VI. 
WEALTH  AND  FAME. 

They  are  fluctuating  and  uncertain  —  Louis  XVI.  —  Marie  An- 
toinette —  Napoleon  —  Louis  Philippe  —  Pius  IX.  —  They  fail 
to  secure  happiness  —  Rich  and  poor  men  —  They  lead  to 
crime  if  unreasonably  loved  —  They  are  as  brief  as  life  —  Sal- 
aam —  Phuip, 128 

LECTURE   VII. 
GAMBLING. 

A  system  of  prodigality  —  It  excites,  intoxicates,  and  maddens  the 
brain  —  It  is  the  highway  to  idleness  —  It  is  a  system  of  false- 
hood —  Of  theft  —  It  nullifies  the  marriage  relation  —  Produces 
confusion  in  families  —  Instances  of  its  effects  —  Leads  to 
intemperance  —  Destroys  kind  and  tender  feelings  —  Corrupts 
society  —  Illustrations, .- 152 

LECTURE   VIII. 
INTEMPERANCE. 

Produces  poverty  —  Ruins  the  constitution  —  Destroys  domestic 
felicity  —  Produces  idiocy  and  madness  —  Excludes  from  hea- 
ven —  Cases  to  illustrate  —  A  plea  to  young  men,  ....  175 


CONTENTS.  11 

LECTURE    IX. 
THE  DETECTION  OF  SIN  CERTAIN. 

The  probability  and  certainty  of  it  —  The  confessions  >f  asso- 
ciates—  The  power  of  memory — The  upbraidings  of  con- 
science —  The  providence  of  God  —  The  bed  of  death  —  Every 
sin  seen  by  God  —  The  coming  judgment  —  Illustrations  of 
these  truths  —  Concluding  appeal, 200 

LECTURE   X. 
THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE. 

In  all  life's  duties  —  Duties  to  ourselves  —  To  kindred  and  friends 
—  To  fellow-men  —  To  government — To  God — A  guide  in 
cases  of  danger  —  From  error  —  From  crime — From  sin  — 
From  misery — Good  and  great  men  have  loved  the  Bible  — 
It  has  claims  as  a  book  of  history  and  poetry  —  It  is  a  divine 
revelation  —  Death-bed  scenes  of  believers  and  unbelievers  — 
Julian — Thomas  Paine  —  Sir  Francis  Newport  —  Polycarp  — 
Sir  "Walter  Scott  —  President  Edwards  —  Conclusion,  .  .  219 


THE 


YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 


LECTURE    I. 

THE  ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY  COURSE. 
SHOW  THYSELF  A  MAN.  —  1  Kings  2 :  2. 

THIS  was  a  part  of  the  royal  David's  dying  charge 
to  Solomon  his  son.  The  monarch  minstrel  \vas 
about  to  be  gathered  to  his  fathers,  the  door  of  the 
sepulchre  was  open  for  him,  and  his  grave  clothes 
were  ready.  The  crown  he  had  already  placed  upon 
the  head  of  his  youngest  son,  and  as  he  stood  with 
one  foot  in  the  grave,  and  one  upon  the  crumbling 
shores  of  time,  he  enjoined  with  all  a  father's  solici- 
tude, the  performance  of  those  duties  and  the  obser- 
vance of  those  rules,  which  were  well  calculated  to 
render  his  government  perpetual,  and  his  name  illus- 
trious. He  exhorted  him,  not  to  show  himself  a 


14        THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

•warrior  merely — not  a  statesman  merely  —  not  a 
monarch  merely,  but  a  MAN  —  possessing  the  gener- 
ous impulses  of  a  man,  and  displaying  a  manly  nature 
in  all  his  intercourse  with  men.  So  Solomon  under- 
stood him,  and  his  government  became  the  admiration 
of  the  world,  his  fame  spread  through  all  nations, 
and  the  proudest  monarchs  of  the  earth  came  to  be- 
hold his  glory,  and  the  magnificence  of  his  kingdom. 
While  others  reigned  as  kings,  and  ruled  as  tyrants, 
he  governed  as  a  man,  having  common  sympathies 
with  those  above  whom  he  had  been  elevated  by  birth 
and  blood. 

In  our  times,  there  are  various  and  contradictory 
opinions  cherished,  in  regard  to  what  constitutes  a 
manly  course.  It  is  not  every  one  that  wears  a  hu- 
man form  that  can  claim  to  be  a  man,  in  the  full  sense 
of  that  term,  though  he  may  prove  his  connection  with 
the  human  race.  Many  live  and  move  among  us 
who  are  destitute  of  the  chief  elements  of  a  manly 
character.  They  suppose  themselves  men  indeed  — 
they  regard  their  own  course  as  honorable  and  worthy 
of  imitation.  The  -gambler  has  his  code  of  honor; 
the  duellist  has  his  code  of  honor ;  the  soldier  red  in 
blood  has  his  code  of  honor.  Napoleon  was  an  Hon- 
orable man  in  his  way,  and  the  world  ascribed  to  him 
many  great  and  noble  qualities.  He  fought  well,  and 
conquered  well.  His  banner  waved  in  triumph  over 
many  a  bloody  field  ;  carnage,  and  famine,  and 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY   COURSE.  15 

death  attended  his  steps,  and  like  the  genius  of  evil 
he  stalked  abroad.  He  was,  doubtless,  a  splendid 
general  and  a  brilliant  emperor ;  but  the  child  who 
wandered  over  the  field  after  his  most  triumphant 
charge,  and  wet  with  water  the  lips  of  the  dying  sol- 
dier there,  was  far  more  exalted  in  the  scale  of 
being,  than  was  the  plumed  and  epauletted  chief- 
tain. 

Nelson  was  a  skilful  officer,  and  died  as  the  world 
says,  "  in  all  his  glory."  His  banner  was  his  shroud  ; 
the  roar  of  cannon  was  his  dirge,  and  the  shout  of 
victory  was  his  requiem.  In  the  history  of  naval 
heroes,  his  name  stands  foremost,  and  they  who  love 
the  navy,  have  learned  to  honor  him.  But  the  poor 
sailor,  who  a  few  months  since  in  yonder  distant  city, 
braved  the  fire,  and  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life  saved 
a  mother's  only  child,  gained  a  truer  glory  than  ever 
shone  around  the  victories  of  the  distinguished  admiral. 

How  false  —  how  unjust  the  estimate  which  the 
world  places  upon  the  actions  of  men.  He  who  dies 
upon  the  battle  field  —  who  rushes  to  carnage  and  to 
strife  —  whose  hands  are  dripping  with  human  gore, 
is  a  man  of  honor.  Parliaments  and  senates  return 
him  thanks,  and  whole  nations  unite  in  erecting  a 
monument  over  the  spot  where  sleeps  his  corpse. 
But  he  whose  task  it  is,  to  dry  up  the  stream  of  blood, 
—  to  mitigate  the  anguish  of  earth,  —  to  lift  man  up, 
and  make  him  what  God  designed  him  to  be,  dies 


16  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

without  a  tongue  to  speak  his  eulogy,  or  a  monument 
to  mark  his  fall.  That  only  is  truly  honorable  which 
does  good  to  the  body  or  the  soul  of  man — Avhich  contri- 
butes to  human  happiness,  or  promotes  the  glory  of  God. 
He  shows  himself  a  man,  and  he  only,  who  sacrifices 
his  own  interests  that  he  may  benefit  others  —  who 
lives  unknown  to  fame  that  he  may  bind  up  some 
broken  heart  —  who  lays  his  own  honor  and  happiness, 
and  even  life  itself,  upon  the  altar  of  a  common  hu- 
manity. 

My  reader,  would  you  show  yourself  a  man,  go  not 
to  yonder  tented  field,  where  death  hovers,  and  the 
vulture  feasts  himself  upon  human  victims  !  Go  not 
where  men  are  carving  monuments  of  marble  to  per- 
petuate names  which  will  not  live  in  one  grateful 
memory !  Go  not  to  the  dwellings  of  the  rich !  Go 
not  to  the  palaces  of  kings !  Go  not  to  the  halls  of 
merriment  and  pleasure  !  Go  to  the  widow  and  re- 
lieve her  woe :  Go  to  the  orphan  and  speak  words 
of  comfort :  Go  to  the  lost  and  save  him :  Go  to 
the  fallen  and  raise  him  up :  Go  to  the  wanderer 
and  bring  him  back  to  virtue :  Go  to  the  sinner  and 
whisper  in  his  ears  words  of  salvation  and  eternal  life. 

The  true  object  of  life  has  scarcely  begun  to  be  un- 
derstood. In  past  ages  men  have  been  attracted  by 
the  glitter  and  show  of  conquest,  and  worldly  pre- 
dominance. They  have  pursued  the  phantom,  while 
the  real  and  the  substantial  have  been  sacrificed. 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY  COURSE.  17 

They  have  aimed  at  the  accomplishment  of  objects, 
which  have  resulted  hi  no  good  to  the  world.  They 
have  built  up  systems  of  monstrous  wrong.  They 
have  strengthened  the  dominion  of  human  cruelty  and 
labored  more  to  crush  the  race  than  to  lift  it  up. 
SELF  has  been  the  common  centre,  and  around  it  the 
universe  has  been  made  to  revolve  like  systems  around 
their  suns.  What,  then,  are  the  elements  of  true 
manliness  ? 

Wealth  is  not  one.  In  a  multitude  of  cases  the 
possessor  of  the  largest  fortune,  and  the  widest  terri- 
tory, has  been  found  to  have  views  and  feelings  not 
at  all  in  proportion  to  the  magnitude  of  his  fortune. 
There  is  a  contingency  about  wealth  which  has  nothing 
to  do  with  moral  or  intellectual  character.  It  seems 
to  be  rained  upon  the  human  family  by  a  capricious 
goddess,  who  distributes  her  favors  according  to  rules 
known  only  to  herself.  At  one  time  a  monarch  is 
her  favorite,  and  his  throne  she  studs  with  jewels,  and 
fills  his  crown  with  richest  diamonds.  At  his  feet  she 
,  spreads  out  broad  fields  —  well  cultivated  vineyards 
—  beautiful  temples  and  shining  towers,  and  as  his 
admiring  eye  gazes  over  the  scene,  she  whispers  in 
his  ear,  —  "  These  are  thine  !  "  At  another  time  she 
fixes  her  eye  upon  a  beggar  boy,  as  he  asks  for  food 
from  house  to  house,  repulsed  everywhere.  His  hand 
she  takes,  and  leads  him  up,  as  if  by  magic  through 
the  various  grades  of  society  until  she  establishes  him 
2 


18  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

in  a  palace,  and  fills  his  coffers  with  the  shining  gold. 
Fair  cheeked  young  men  have  sought  to  win  her 
smile,  but  sought  in  vain,  while  she  has  turned  from 
them  to  hestow  her  gifts  upon  some  unsightly  being, 
on  whom  God's  curse  seems  to  have  fallen.  The  in- 
telligent —  the  virtuous  —  the  brave  —  the  wise, 
have  knelt  at  her  altar,  and  breathed  their  supplica- 
tions, but  she  has  spurned  them  away  and  beckoned 
with  friendly  hand,  to  sordid  ignorance  and  vice. 
Hence  we  find  that  wealth  gives  us  no  clue  to  charac- 
ter —  furnishes  us  with  no  criterion  by  which  we  may 
measure  the  soul,  and  judge  of  the  dimensions  of  the 
man  himself. 

Birth  and  blood  are  not  elements  of  true  manliness. 
Royal  veins  are  often  found  to  flow  with  plebeian 
streams,  and  crime  and  duplicity  as  often  disgrace  the 
palace  of  the  monarch,  as  the  hovel  of  the  slave. 
Csesar  was  a  monarch.  Blood  of  which  after  ages 
loved  to  boast,  flowed  through  his  princely  temples.- 
A  crown  was  on  his  brow  —  the  imperial  crown.  At 
the  foot  of  his  throne  proud  nations  nestled,  and  o'er 
all  the  earth  his  banner  waved ;  but  was  Csesar  a 
man?  had  he  a  manly  character?  was  his  bosom 
thrilled  by  manly  emotions?  No.  Nero's  heart 
swelled  with  the  blood  of  emperors.  Rome  acknowl- 
edged him  as  her  sovereign ;  but  was  he  a  man  ?  No. 
Nero  and  Caesar  were  both  monarchs,  but  they  were 
not  men  in  the  noblest  sense.  No  living  link  con- 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY   COURSE.  19 

nected  them  with  the  great  heart  of  humanity.  They 
were  on  earth  —  they  ate  and  drank  and  slept  like 
other  men  —  they  wore  the  human  form,  but  aside 
from  this,  they  moved  like  demons  through  the  earth, 
smiting  its  flowers  and  withering  its  verdure.  When 
they  descended  from  the  living  to  the  dead,  a  mighty 
incubus  was  removed  from  the  crushed  form  of  hu- 
manity, and  upon  their  graves  she  stood  and  uttered 
thanksgiving.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  seen  beg- 
gars and  slaves  in  whose  veins  not  a  single  drop  of 
princely  blood  was  flowing,  come  forth  from  their  low 
abodes  to  startle  the  world  with  the  brilliancy  of  their 
lives,  wake  up  the  race  to  angelic  deeds  and  pro- 
duce a  wonderful  change  throughout  all  the  ranks  of 
'men,  and  all  grades  of  human  society.  Such  was 
Luther.  He  was  no  prince.  He  bore  no  tokens  of 
royalty.  He  came  clad  in  no  habiliments  of  state 
and  majesty.  From  a  cloistered  cell  he  came — a 
shaven  monk.  In  his  hand  no  sceptre  —  on  his  head 
no  crown.  But  he  had  a  human  heart  within  him, 
and  it  gushed  out  for  human  woe.  Such  was  Wilber- 
force  and  Howard  and  Carey  and  a  host  of  others,  who- 
have  stood  for  right,  and  breasted  the  world's  dark 
tide  for  the  good  of  men. 

Intellect  does  not  make  the  man.  I  admit  the  power 
of  intellect.  I  acknowledge  its  superiority  over  wealth, 
physical  power,  and  brute  force ;  but  a  mere  in- 
tellectualist  is  not  a  man.  True,  intellect  is  one  of 


20  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

the  elements  which  enter  into  the  composition  of  man, 
as  we  usually  apply  that  term;  but  in  the  better 
sense  in  which  I  use  the  word,  the  possession  of  in- 
tellect only,  gives  proof  that  one  is  fitted  to  be  a  man, 
and  the  me  of  that  intellect  shows  to  what  extent  he 
is  a  man.  Enter  any  department  of  literature  and 
science,  and  you  will  find  men  of  vast  power  and 
might.  Among  the  poets,  you  behold  Byron  standing 
in  the  first  rank.  The  grasp  of  thought  —  the  clear 
conception  —  the  elevated  diction  —  the  elegant  lan- 
guage, are  seen  at  a  single  glance.  As  an  intellec- 
tualist,  he  stands  almost  beyond  the  power  of  criticism, 
and  that  is  a  bold  man  who  dares  hurl  a  shaft  at  the 
literary  merits  of  his  productions.  But  what  is  the  ten- 
dency of  the  works  of  Byron  ?  Will  his  writings  do  good 
or  evil  ?  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  as  other  men  have  said 
before  me,  that  they  tend  to  corruption,  —  that  they 
are  calculated  to  sink  the  feelings  of  the  reader, — lower 
the  standard  of  his  virtues,  —  corrupt  his  taste  and 
deprave  his  heart.  Among  historians,  stands  con- 
spicuously the  name  of  Gibbon.  And  what  was  he  ? 
From  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  I  hear  the  reply, 
"  He  was  one  of  the  world's  most  distinguished  wri- 
ters." His  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire," 
will  continue  to  be  read  with  interest  so  long  as  the 
world  stands — his  name  will  be  remembered  as  long 
as  time  endures.  But  Gibbon  was  a  sceptic  as  well 
as  a  historian.  His  works  are  full  of  artful  attacks  up- 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY  COURSE.  21 

On  the  religion  of  the  cross.  Scepticism  is  interwoven 
with  all  that  he  has  written,  and  to  the  last  age  will 
be  handed  down  with  his  grand  history,  his  attempts 
to  undermine  the  Bible,  and  overthrow  the  Christian 
faith.  While  literature  will  point  to  him  as  one  of  its 
most  distinguished  ornaments,  Christianity  will  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  Edward  Gibbon  with  tears  of 
pity.  Poetry  and  history  are  not  the  only  depart- 
ments which  furnish  such  instances.  On  every  page 
of  the  book  of  fame,  are  found  the  names  of  men  en- 
dowed by  God  with  giant  minds  —  men  of  dazzling 
intellect,  who  have  used  their  powers  for  the  perver^ 
sion  of  truth  and  the  destruction  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.  Look  at  Bulwer  and  Alexander  Dumas! 
what  powers  of  mind !  what  vast  capacity  for  labor ! 
what  unwearied  perseverance  in  catering  to  the  pub- 
'lic  taste ;  and  all  perverted  —  all  used  to  debase 
man,  and  sink  him  to  a  level  with  the  brutes.  Tow- 
ering intellect,  when  used  for  unholy  purposes  —  when 
made  a  minister  of  vice,  is  a  curse,  not  only  to  its 
possessor  but  to  all  who  come  within  the  circle  of 
its  fatal  influence:  and  better  would  it  be  for  the 
world  to  be  without  these  splendid  intellects  than  to 
have  them  devoted  to  the  service  of  Satan. 

In  enforcing  the  exhortation  of  David  to  his  son, 
upon  your  minds  my  readers,  I  wish  to  present  three 
ways  in  which  each  one  may  show  himself  a  man  in 
the  highest  meaning  of  that  term,  and  which  if  obser- 


22  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

ved  will  promote  happiness  in  this  life  and  lead  to 
glory  in  the  life  to  come.  As  I  make  these  remarks, 
I  remember  that  I  am  a  young  man  myself —  that  a 
mutual  sympathy  must  exist  between  myself  and  the 
younger  portion  of  my  congregation  —  that  we  are 
sailing  over  life  together,  and  hence  have  common 
interests,  common  hopes,  and  common  dangers.  I  will 
urge  you  then  to  show  yourself  a  man, 

I.   BY  A  MANLY   EFFORT  FOR   THE   PROMOTION    OF 

VIRTUE.  Society  cannot  exist  without  virtue.  It  is 
impossible  for  a  vicious  and  depraved  community  to 
be  prosperous  and  happy.  God  has  otherwise  or- 
dained. He  has  made  virtue  the  basis  of  happiness, 
and  vice  the  cause  of  sorrow.  With  communities,  as 
well  as  with  individuals,  the  sentiment  of  Scripture 
proves  true,  "  The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard." 
Hence,  if  we  look  back  over  the  history  of  the  past, 
we  find  nations  and  communities  prosperous  and  hap- 
py, just  in  proportion  to  the  public  and  private  virtues 
of  the  people.  We  find  the  ancient  republics  while 
devoted  to  virtue,  rising  in  opulence  and  increasing  in 
honor  and  happiness.  We  behold  them  increasing 
their  influence ;  spreading  their  conquests,  and  ex- 
tending their  authority.  But  in  process  of  time  those 
republics  became  corrupt ;  the  virtue  of  the  peo- 
ple died  out,  the  temples  were  consecrated  to  crime, 
and  the  altars  stained  with  blood.  As  vice  increased, 
the  bright  dream  of  happiness  vanished  before  its  dark 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY  COURSE.  9£ 

and  dreadful  form,  and  one  by  one  those  nations, 
once  the  admiration  of  the  world,  have  fallen  into  ruin. 
Where  are  they  now  ?  Their  blackened  pillars  — 
their  crumbling  temples  —  their  ruined  honor,  their 
fallen  greatness,  alone  remain  as  warning  beacons  to 
ill  coming  time.  The  principle  remains  unchanged. 
Virtue  is  now  the  basis  of  happiness  and  prosperity, 
tnd  the  nation  which  discards  it,  will  speedily  sink  in- 
to ruin.  France  has  been  tampering  with  it  for  years, 
and  the  result  has  been  fearful.  Revolution  after 
revolution  has  occurred  —  one  wave  of  blood  after 
another  has  rolled  through  the  guilty  streets  of  Paris, 
and  the  people  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the  other, 
have  been  clothed  in  mourning.  In  our  own  land, — 
in  all  our  cities, — a  warfare  between  virtue  and  vice 
is  in  continual  progress.  The  discordant  elements  of 
one,  and  the  pure  principles  of  the  other,  are  at  work, 
striving  for  universal  conquest.  The  gigantic  form 
of  evil  is  stalking  abroad,  and  sin  of  all  grades  is 
fearfully  prevalent.  Look  around,  and  you  will  be- 
hold intemperance  fondly  cherished.  You  will  see 
the  drunkard  reeling  and  staggering  to  his  fall.  You 
will  see  standing  at  the  bar,  all  characters  and  con- 
ditions in  life,  from  the  young  man  who  seems 
abashed  amid  the  gay  throng,  and  takes  his  first 
glass  with  trembling  and  fear,  to  the  aged  drunkard 
from  whom  all  shame  and  contrition  have  fled  away. 
Go  forth  and  you  will  see  them  reeling  out  to  the 


24  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FMEIO). 

light  of  day,  the  son,  the  brother,  the  father,  and 
sometimes  the  wife  and  mother.  Follow  them  to 
their  abodes,  and  you  will  behold  their  homes  divested 
of  all  that  is  attractive,  and  converted  into  places  of 
misery.  Intemperance  is  not  alone.  By  its  side, 
marching  to  this  conquest  over  man,  is  immorality  of 
every  sort,  and  depravity  of  every  description.  The 
picture  which  Pollock  drew  of  our  world  as  it  will 
be  at  the  consummation,  is  too  fearfully  true  at  the 
present  time : 

"  Satan  raged  loose,  Sin  had  her  will,  and  Death 
Enough.    Blood  trod  upon  the  heels  of  Blood ; 
Revenge  in  desperate  mood,  at  midnight  met 
Revenge.    War  brayed  to  War,  Deceit  deceived 
Deceit.    Lie  cheated  Lie,  and  Treachery, 
Mined  under  Treachery ;  and  Perjury 
Swore  back  on  Perjury ;  and  Blasphemy 
Arose  with  hideous  Blasphemy,  and  curse 
Loud  answering  curse ;  and  drunkard  stumbling  fell 
O'er  drunkard  fallen  ;  and  husband,  husband  met 
Returning  from  each  other's  bed  denied : 
Thief  s.tole  from  thief ;  and  robber  on  the  way 
Knocked  robber  down ;  and  Lewdness,  Violence 
And  Hate  met  Lewdness,  Violence,  and  Hate." 

The  mission  of  the  young  man  in  this  age,  is,  to 
meet  these  evils  which  have  crept  in  upon  society, 
and  with  all  his  influence  arrest  if  possib'e  the  tide  of 
sin  which  is  sweeping  over  the  world.  Vice  has  its 
known,  open,  avowed  supporters.  Those  who  are  en- 
gaged in  vicious  employments  —  whose  craft  consists 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY   COURSE.  25 

in  making  men  miserable,  and  preparing  their  souls 
for  perdition,  are  using  all  their  endeavors  to  spread 
corruption.  In  some  cases  the  public  press  and  the 
pulpit,  have  so  far  forgotten  the  dignity  connected  with 
them,  as  to  become  defenders  of  crime,  and  have  given 
their  sanction  to  the  progress  of  the  fearful  scourge. 
Now  I  cherish  the  opinion,  and  in  it  I  toink 
you  will  concur,  that  the  young  men  of  our  coun- 
try have  never  taken  that  position  in  relation  to 
vice,  which  it  is  their  sacred  duty  to  occupy.  Thus 
far  they  have  stood  aloof,  as  a  body,  from  the  great 
contest,  and  have  left  their  grey-haired  sires  to  fight 
alone.  They  have  felt  that  it  did  not  belong  to 
them  to  enter  the  foremost  rank,  and  stand  out  in 
defence  of  the  great  principles  of  right.  In  this  I 
contend  that  young  men  have  mistaken  their  true 
position.  There  is  .no  class,  to  whom  a  louder  call  is 
given  by  God  and  humanity,  to  enter  the  field  as  the 
avowed  defenders  of  virtue  and  truth.  There  is  no 
class  of  persons  capable  of  accomplishing  more,  and 
effecting  the  object  with  more  ease  and  readiness  than 
are  they.  Should  the  young  men  of  our  cities  in  one 
firm  united  band  set  their  faces  against  vice  of  every 
description,  the  effect  would  be  instant  and  irresistible. 
Half  the  dram-shops  would  be  closed,  half  the  gam- 
bling-saloons would  be  deserted,  crape  would  hang 
upon  the  door  of  the  theatre,  and  the  grinding  of  the 
music  in  the  hall  of  revelry  would  become  low.  And 


26  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

I  ask  if  such  a  prospect  has  nothing  attractive  to  this 
crowd  of  young  men  ?  Is  not  the  sight  of  reformed  — 
regenerated  drunkards  —  redeemed  gamblers,  lib- 
ertines, and  Sabbath-breakers,  one  •worthy  of  our  care 
and  efforts  ?  Is  there  no  music  in  the  song  of  the 
mother  over  her  Deformed  son  ?  Is  there  no  charm 
in  the  willing  step  of  the  prodigal,  as  he  returns  to 
the  home  of  his  youth,  and  to  the  bosom  of  his  sire  ? 
Is  there  no  beauty  to  the  form  of  Virtue  as  she  stands 
with  her  foot  upon  the  neck  of  prostrate  Vice  ? 

The  question  will  arise  in  some  minds,  What  can  I 
do  ?  Were  I  in  the  ministry,  or  did  I  stand  at  the  head 
of  one  of  the  learned  professions,  the  attempt  might 
be  successful.  Let  such  a  young  man  look  at  the 
instances  in  which  young  men,  and  old  men,  have  ac- 
complished great  results  under  the  most  discouraging 
circumstances.  Let  him  turn  his  eye  to  Luther  as 
from  his  cell  he  came,  and  hurled  his  shafts  at  Rome. 
Let  him  behold  Columbus  as  he  chartered  his  ves- 
sel, and  hired  his  crew,  and  sailed  forth,  jeered  and 
scorned,  to  discover  a  new  world.  Let  him  contem- 
plate the  numberless  cases  of  like  character  which 
ado'rn  the  history  of  the  world,  and  learn  from  them, 
that  a  young  man  can  do  anything  that  is  right. 

II.   BY  A  MANLY  INTEREST   IN   THE   ELEVATION  OP 

THE  RACE.  We  sustain  certain  relations  to  the  whole 
human  family.  We  are  children  of  one  common  pa- 
rent. .  We  are  the  heirs  of  one  common  inheritance. 


ELEMENTS   OF  A  MANLY  COURSE.  27 

Go  to  the  wildest  spot  on  earth,  and  find  the  blackest 
character  which  exists  within  the  limits  of  the  race, 
and  you  find  in  that  dark  character,  a  relative  —  a 
brother.  Ethiopia's  son  as  he  lifts  his  hands  to  God 
—  the  wild  Karen  as  he  rushes  from  his  dark  jungle, 
ready  for  blood  —  the  child  of  Erin,  as  he  comes  in 
rags  and  poverty  to  our  shores,  are  all  our  brethren. 
We  cannot  divest  ourselves  of  this  relationship  if  we 
would.  God  has  formed  it  for  us,  and  whether  we 
are  willing  to  acknowledge  the  fact  or  not,  the  race 
is  one  wide  and  indissoluble  fraternity.  The  black 
faced  negro  —  the  hunted  Indian  and  the  proudest 
child  of  civilization,  are  of  one  blood.  Hence  we  find 
that  God  has  given  us  a  natural  sympathy  one  with 
another.  He  has  created  us  with  a  feeling  of  rela- 
tionship, and  given  us  a  disposition  to  assist  the  fallen, 
and  relieve  the  wants  of  the  needy.  He  has  designed 
that  we  should  be  mutual  helpers  and  assistants,  and 
has  placed  us  in  a  position  of  mutual  dependence,  so 
.that  our  relations  may  ever  be  recognised. 

It  is  when  man  is  displaying  himself  for  the  good  of 
others  that  he  seems  most  Godlike,  and  if  there  is 
a  time  when  he  appears  to  have  but  little  of  the  influ- 
ence of  depravity  in  his  heart,  it  is,  when  ministering 
like  an  angel  of  mercy  to  the  wants  and  woes  of  life. 
Now  in  the  providence  of  God  it  has  occurred, 
that  the  young  men  of  America  are  more  favorably 
situated,  than  are  the  young  men  of  any  other  por- 


28  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

tion  of  the  earth.  Thanks  to  God  and  the  Puri- 
tans, we  occupy  a  spot  on  which  intelligence,  mo- 
rality, and  religion  have  shed  their  mildest  beams, 
and  exerted  their  most  happy  influences.  Conse- 
quently we  can  look  abroad  and  behold  everywhere 
the  objects  of  pity  and  commiseration.  Ignorance, 
slavery,  heathenish  degradation,  arrest  the  attention 
everywhere,  and  pathetic  appeals  from  every  quarter 
are  made  to  the  young  men  of  our  own  favored  sec- 
tion of  the  earth.  Nor  have  we  a  right  to  deny  these 
claims  and  resist  these  appeals.  The  object  for  which 
we  live,  is  not  to  secure  our  own  gratification,  and  min- 
ister to  our  own  increasing  desires.  The  good  of 
others  should  be  one  of  the  most  prominent  objects 
of  our  lives  —  an  object  never  to  be  forgotten.  He 
who  has  never  felt  his  bosom  thrill  with  pity  at  the 
recital  of  scenes  which  are  transpiring  upon  the 
earth,  he  who  has  not  gazed  with  feelings  of  deep 
commiseration  upon  the  millions  who  sit  in  dark- 
ness and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  and  who  has  never, 
made  an  effort  to  send  them  the  means  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  the  religion  of  the  cross,  is  a  stranger  to 
the  emotions  which  will  crowd  upon  the  mind  of  every 
man,  who  understands  his  relations  to  his  fellow-crea- 
tures, and  who  is  willing  to  acknowledge  them. 

Whatever  may  be  our  views  of  Christianity,  whatever 
may  be  our  opinion  of  experimental  piety,  we  cannot 
but  admit  our  obligation  to  send  the  Bible  to  all  climes. 


ELEMENTS   OP  A  MANLY   COURSE.  29 

Thus  far  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  has  been  "inconceivably  great.  It  has 
SAvept  away  system  after  system  of  philosophy,  politics, 
and  religion.  It  has  remodeled  the  whole  framework 
of  human  society — upturned  its  very  foundations,  and 
laid  at 'the  basis  of  all  earthly  intercourse,  principles 
new  and  hitherto  unknown.  Before  Christianity,  the 
Jews  had  a  ritual  of  blood,  and  the  heathen  a  ritual 
of  darkness.  Christ  sealed  up  the  fountain  of  one, 
and  the  exploded  dogmas  of  past  ages  gave  place 
to  the  sublime  faith  of  the  Son  of  God.  And  such 
ever  will  be  the  influence  of  the  gospel  wherever  it  is 
propagated.  It  will  dissipate  darkness  —  dispel  the 
gloom  of  mind  —  break  the  fetters  of  the  slave,  and 
make  virtuous  and  happy  society. 

Such  being  the  nature  of  Christianity,  it  is  the  duty 
of  young  men  to  send  it  to  the  heathen,  whether  they 
have  themselves  embraced  it,  or  not.  Whatever  may 
be  our  opinion  of  its  influence  upon  the  soul  of  man, 
all  agree  that  it  embraces  the  only  system  of  morality 
which  can  render  the  world  happy,  and  the  govern- 
ments of  the  earth  glorious.  Consequently  it  is  our 
duty,  to  send  to  heathen  nations  the  Bible,  that 
it  may  civilize  and  make  them  moral,  and  he  who 
casts  his  influence  against  the  missionary  enterprise, 
casts  it  not  only  against  the  salvation  of  the  souls  of 
the  heathen,  but  against  the  progress  of  civilization, 
and  hence,  is  an  enemy  of  his  race,  and  forfeits  his 


30  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

claim  to  the  name  of  man.  Our  relations  to  others 
are  not  understood  as  they  ought  to  be.  The  mass 
of  young  men  seem  to  feel  that  they  are  under  no 
obligation  to  aid  in  the  elevation  of  the  race.  But  is 
it  so  ?  God  and  humanity  give  a  negative  reply. 
The  young  have  no  right  to  rest  from  toil,  until 
•want  is  driven  from  the  borders  of  our  own  coun- 
try, until  virtue  is  respected,  and  vice  hated,  un- 
til labor  receives  its  due  reward,  until  honest  men 
are  respected  whatever  may  be  their  pecuniary 
circumstances,  until  general  intelligence  shall  be 
characteristic  of  the  people.  They  have  no  right  to 
rest  from  toil,  until  every  one  of  the  three  million 
slaves  who  groan  upon  our  southern  soil  are  free ; 
until  war,  and  the  spirit  of  war  are  eradicated  from 
the  breast  of  man ;  until  bloodshed  and  cruel  oppres- 
sion are  done  away.  They  have  no  right  to  cease 
from  toil,  until  the  thrones  of  tyrants  are  demolished ; 
until  aristocracies  of  blood,  birth,  and  wealth  are 
buried  in  one  common  grave.  They  have  no  right  to 
rest  until  over  all  the  earth  the  gospel  has  been 
preached  and  Christianity  embraced  —  until 

"  The  voice  of  singing, 

Flows  joyfully  along : 
And  hill  and  valley  ringing 

With  one  triumphant  song, 
Proclaim  the  contest  ended, 

And  Him  who  once  was  slain, 
Again  to  earth  descended 

In  righteousness  to  reign." 


ELEMENTS   OP  A  MANLY   COURSE.  81 

III.  BY  A  MANLY  SUBMISSION  TO  THE  GOVERN- 
MENT OP  GOD.  There  is  a  notion  widely  spread,  that 
religion  is  an  unmanly  thing,  that  embracing  it,  be- 
trays a  womanly  weakness,  that  it  is  the  product 
of  superstitious  fear,  or  of  a  fanatical  imagination. 
Thousands  who  respect  Christianity  on  account  of  its 
triumphs,  who  admire  the  Bible  on  account  of  the 
purity  and  sublimity  of  its  doctrines,  would  lose  the 
right  hand,  rather  than  be  suspected  of  being  tinc- 
tured with  what  are  deemed  the  follies  of  Christians. 
Especially  young  men,  shrink  from  having  it  known, 
that  they  have  any  desire  to  become  savingly  inter- 
ested in  the  cross  of  Christ.  On  this  rock  thousands 
have  shipwrecked  salvation  and  their  souls.  Con- 
vinced of  sin,  of  the  need  of  a  Saviour,  they  have 
hushed  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  —  crushed  the  aspira- 
tions of  the  better  nature,  lest  the  world  should  place 
on  them  the  brand  of  fanaticism ;  and  there  are 
some  present  who  would  become  submissive  to  the 
Divine  will,  and  embrace  humble  piety,  did  they  not 
deem  the  act  childish  and  unfashionable.  But  how 
mistaken  are  such !  Pure  religion  instead  of  being 
childish,  unmanly  and  weak,  is  honorable  in  the 
highest  degree.  God  is  our  moral  governor,  and 
submission  is  honorable.  God  is  our  father,  and  obe- 
dience is  honorable.  God  is  our  benefactor,  and 
gratitude  is  honorable.  You  have  earthly  parents 
who  have  watched  over  your  advancing  years,  who 


32  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

have  protected  you  from  childhood,  and  would  shame 
tinge  your  cheek  were  it  told  that  you  revered  and 
honored  and  obeyed  those  parents  ?  No :  and  should  a 
blush  be  seen,  when  God  the  Eternal  Father  is  obeyed 
and  worshipped?  Religion  consists  hi  doing  right, 
and  is  doing  right,  manly  or  unmanly  ?  Religion  is 
gratitude  to  a  kind  friend  and  benevolent  benefactor, 
and  is  gratitude  under  such  circumstances  manly  or 
unmanly  ?  The  angels  are  engaged  night  and  day  in 
the  service  of  God  —  the  highest  intelligences  of 
Heaven,  bow  before  the  dazzling  throne  with  cease- 
less songs,  and  tell  me,  is  such  service  manly  or  un- 
manly, honorable  or  dishonorable  ?  Instead  of  be- 
ing a  dishonorable  work,  the  service  of  God  is  the 
highest  and  noblest  which  can  engage  the  attention  of 
angels  or  men ;  while  sin  is  unmanly,  weak,  cow- 
ardly, debasing,  and  devilish.  Every  man  who  is 
converted  and  becomes  a  child  of  God  has  conferred 
upon  Him  immortal  glory,  while  every  sinner  who  lives 
on  in  sin  is  covering  himself  with  everlasting  shame 
and  disgrace.  I  am  not  alone  in  this  view  of  the 
subject.  Some  of  the  mightiest  minds  have  been 
found  among  those  who  have  been  believers  in  ex- 
perimental piety,  and  who  have  loved  to  attest  by 
many  works  of  love,  their  attachment  to  the  reli- 
gion of  the  cross.  Men  from  all  professions — from 
all  parties  and  all  countries  —  from  all  ranks  in  life, 
and  degrees  of  mental  culture,  have  been  found, 


ELEMENTS   OF   A   MANLY   COURSE.  3S 

were  not  ashamed  of  Christ,  but  who  deemed  his 
religion  manly  and  honorable.  Sir  Matthew  Hale, 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  Judges  which  England 
has  ever  had,  was  a  Christian.  Joseph  Addison,  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  writers  of  Europe,  and  who  has 
added  much  to  the  literature  of  his  native  land,  was 
a  Christian.  Cowper,  Pollok,  Milton,  and  other 
great  poets  of  the  world,  were  Christians.  Fene- 
lon,  Mackintosh,  Paley,  Tillotson,  Melancthon,  were 
Christians.  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  one  of  the  greatest 
philosophers  who  ever  lived,  and  a  host  of  others  whose 
names  I  have  no  time  to  mention,  were  Christians. 

Of  our  own  countrymen  some  of  the  most  illustrious 
have  been  among  the  professors  of  the  faith  of  the 
cross,  deeming  it  no  reproach.  The  great  leader  ot 
our  tribes,  Washington,  was  not  only  a  godly  man,  but 
everywhere  let  it  be  known.  The  whole  army,  the  offi- 
cers and  private  members  of  the  regiments,  knew  that 
he  was  a  man  of  humble  piety  and  prayer.  Several 
of  the  framers  of  the  declaration  of  independence  were 
disciples  of  Christ,  known  and  avowed.  Several  of 
our  most  able  judges  are  men  of  like  precious  faith, 
and  though  of  different  creeds  and  sects,  unite  in 
their  hearty  attachment  to  vital  godliness.  The  "old 
man  eloquent,"  whose  form  we  laid  away  as  it  were 
but  yesterday,  and  whom  the  nation  loveth  to  honor, 
was  a  man  of  piety.  Amid  the  arduous  duties  which 
devolved  upon  him,  he  found  time  to  commune  with 
3 


84  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

God,  and  perform  those  duties  which  some  of  our 
young  men  deem  so  childish  and  frivolous,  but  which 
the  venerable  ex-President  loved  to  perform,  even  to 
his  dying  moment.  These  cases  I  select  from  a  mul- 
titude of  others  which  I  only  need  time  to  produce, 
as  witnesses  of  the  opinion,  which  these  men  of  strong 
minds  and  untarnished  honor,  have  cherished  in  re- 
gard to  the  Christian  faith. 

And  if  it  was  not  dishonorable  to  them,  will  it  be 
so  to  us  ?  If  they  were  called  disciples,  and  the 
charge  brought  no  blush  to  the  cheek,  shall  we  be 
ashamed  of  God  our  Father  — of  Christ  our  Saviour  ? 

"  Ashamed  of  Jesus,  sooner  far, 
Let  evening  blush  to  own  a  star." 

I  have  done.  The  time  allotted  for  a  single  lec- 
ture has  already  expired,  and  what  effect  has  been 
produced  ?  Have  I  aroused  one  manly  feeling, 
have  I  awakened  one  generous  emotion,  have  I 
kindled  up  in  one  mind  a  desire  to  do  good,  or 
love  God  ?  Let  thy  heart  be  strong,  young  man,  for 
high  and  holy  deeds,  and  be  determined  to  be  some- 
thing more  than  a  slave,  who  toils  by  day,  and  lies 
down  to  sleep  at  night,  forgetful  of  his  kin,  his  coun- 
try, and  his  God. 

"  Count  life  by  virtues — these  will  last 
When  life's  lame-footed  race  is  o'erj 
And  these,  when  earthly  joys  are  past, 
Shall  cheer  us  on  a  brighter  shore." 


LECTURE   II. 

YOUTH;  ITS  ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES. 

MEDITATE  UPON  THESE  THINGS  ;  GIVE  THYSELF  WHOLLY  TO 
THEM  ;  THAT  THY  PROFITING  MAY  APPEAR  TO  ALL. — 1  Timo- 
thy 4:  15. 

THIS  was  part  of  an  address  delivered  to  a  young 
man  who  was  about  to  embark  upon  the  sea  of  life, 
without  experience  and  exposed  to  all  the  temptations 
by  which  the  period  of  youth  is  surrounded.  He  had 
chosen  a  high  and  sacred  calling.  He  had  entered 
the  Christian  ministry,  and  had  devoted  himself  to  the 
work  of  reforming  his  fellowmen.  Though  commis- 
sioned by  God  and  ordained  by  inspired  men,  he  was 
yet  to  a  considerable  extent,  to  be  the  framer  of  his 
own  course.  His  success  as  a  man  and  as  a  minister, 
depended  in  a  certain  sense,  upon  the  plan  which  he 
should  pursue  and  the  course  of  action  which  he  should 
adopt.  To  guide  him  through  the  period  of  his  inex- 
perience, the  apostle  Paul  directed  to  him  the  two 
epistles  which  bear  his  name.  In  these  epistles  cei> 


36  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

tain  sentiments  are  advanced,  and  certain  principles 
of  action  prescribed,  and  the  injunction  is  given,  that 
he  should  meditate  upon  them,  give  them  his  serious 
consideration  for  the  obvious  reason,  that  his  profit- 
ing might  appear  in  his  intercourse  with  men. 

Those  of  us  who  are  young  are  starting  upon  the 
voyage  of  life,  more  or  less  elated  with  hopes  and 
prospects  of  success.  With  us,  the  period  of  child- 
hood has  passed  away,  and  with  it,  the  period  of  de- 
pendence upon  parental  oversight.  Like  a  vessel 
which  has  left  its  moorings  in  the  harbor,  and  stretch- 
ed its  canvas  for  a  returnless  voyage,  and  floated 
out  upon  the  heaving  bosom  of  the  great  ocean,  so 
each  young  man  has  left  the  home  of  his  childhood, 
the  roof  which  sheltered  him  in  infancy,  and  the 
scenes  which  clustered  around  him  there,  and  gone 
forth  to  grapple  with  the  stern  realities  of  mature  life. 
He  may  have  kind  parents  and  prudent  friends,  but 
they  follow  him  not,  and  to  a  certain  extent  he  is 
alone  upon  the  world's  wide  waste.  This  is  felt  by 
every  young  person,  as  he  goes  forth  into  Hie  to  seek 
his  own  fortune,  and  carve  out  his  own  destiny. 
He  enters  his  profession,  locates  himself  in  business, 
and  feels  that  the  great  world  is  before  him.  In 
most  cases  high  hopes  are  cherished.  A  fortune  daz- 
zles the  eyes  of  the  youthful  aspirant,  and  he  rushes 
on  to  secure  it,  without  one  single  thought  of  failure. 
Most  young  men  when  they  enter  the  active  scenes 


YOUTH  J   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      37 

of  life  appear  to  have  made  provision  for  nothing  but 
complete  and  triumphant  success.  Whatever  may 
be  the  object  of  pursuit,  they  seem  to  have  it  in  their 
grasp,  and  in  a  multitude  of  cases  meet  nothing  but 
misfortune  and  disappointment.  You  have  seen  the 
noble  vessel  leaving  some  one  of  our  harbors  on  the 
coast,  on  a  beautiful  morning  in  summer,  with  all 
sails  spread,  with  every  banner  and  pennant  flying, 
with  joy  on  every  countenance  and  high  hope  beating 
in  every  heart.  You  have  watched  her  progress  as 
she  walked  through  "  the  waters  like  a  thing  of  life," 
and  faded  from  your  view  upon  the  distant  ocean. 
You  have  admired  her  majestic  and  imposing  form, 
and  wished  yourself  upon  her  deck,  about  to  traverse 
with  her,  the  fathomless  deep.  You  have  stood  there 
long  after  she  has  disappeared  from  view,  and  have 
turned  from  the  spot  without  dreaming  that  the  noble 
vessel  would  become  a  wreck  ere  midnight.  But  fol- 
low her  out  to  sea,  and  you  will  soon  see  dark  clouds 
rolling  over  the  sun  —  far  away  in  the  distance  the 
hoarse  thunder  will  mutter  —  the  moaning  sea  will 
present  a  fearful  aspect,  and  utter  from  her  sepulchral 
lips  ominous  threatenings.  Soon  the  storm  will  come. 
Peal  after  peal  of  thunder  —  flash  after  flash  of  light- 
ning adds  terror  to  the  scene.  The  ship  which  you 
saw  a  few  hours  before,  moving  so  majestically  from 
the  harbor  will  quiver  upon  the  wave  like  the  play- 
thing of4a  child.  The  tattered  sails,  the  falling 


38  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

masts,  the  broken  helm,  the  wave-washed  deck  all 
present  a  frightful  aspect.  The  billows  swell  high ; 
like  mountains  they  rise  and  fall  with  terrible  fury 
upon  the  sinking  vessel.  In  their  terror  the  mari- 
ners pray  to  the  God  of  the  ocean  and  the  stonn  for 
help.  Lips  long  accustomed  to  blasphemy  now  utter 
supplications  for  mercy.  But  deaf  to  all  their  cries 
the  storm  rages  on.  One  by  one  the  unhappy  men 
are  swept  away.  Their  last  prayer  mingled  perhaps 
with  the  name  of  wife  or  child,  rings  out  like  a  hollow 
wail  over  the  deep,  and  all  is  hushed.  The  ship  her- 
self, unwilling  to  yield,  struggles  on  a  moment  longer, 
and  then  with  a  terrible  plunge  descends  to  the  bot- 
tom of  ocean,  and  not  one  single  object  is  left  to 
mark  the  spot. 

Such  is  the  sad  history  of  many  of  the  most  promis- 
ing young  men  of  our  land.  They  commence  life 
under  the  most  flattering  circumstances,  but  ere  they 
Lave  accomplished  half  the  task,  they  are  overtaken 
by  storms  of  moral  and  commercial  embarrassment, 
and  are  shipwrecked  just  where  hope  had  painted  the 
brightest  vision  of  success.  With  this  fact  before  me, 
I  have  concluded  to  present  for  your  consideration 
this  evening  a  few  themes  for  profitable  meditation. 
As  the  mariner  starts  upon  his  voyage,  there  are  cer- 
tain facts  and  principles  which  he  must  keep  before 
his  mind.  He  must  remember  that  storm  is  almost 
inevitable,  and  must  be  prepared  to  guard  against  it. 


YOUTH  J    ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      39 

If  he  allows  it  to  overtake  him  while  he  has  all  sail 
spread,  and  everj  sheet  of  canvas  out,  he  must  ex- 
pect shipwreck.  He  will  perhaps  be  becalmed,  and 
against  such  an  emergency  must  have  a  sufficient 
supply  of  bread  and  water.  He  is  liable  to  be  over- 
taken by  piratical  crafts,  and  hence  must  be  ready 
for  a  conflict  with  them.  If  he  goes  forth  thoughtless 
of  all  these  considerations,  his  voyage  will  most  cer- 
tainly prove  unsuccessful,  his  ship  will  founder  in 
mid  ocean,  and  the  morning  wave  Avill  sweep  back 
to  the  city  of  his  birth  to  tell  his  wife  that  she  is  a 
widow. 

There  are  certain  facts  which  all  young  men  should 
remember  as  they  commence  the  active  duties  of  life. 
Remembered  and  acted  upon,  they  will  prove  like  the 
forethought  of  the  mariner,  and  prevent  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  enterprises.  Forgotten,  they  will  lead  to 
the  most  disastrous  consequences,  and  a  want  of  the 
knowledge  which  these  principles  afford,  will  prove 
a  source  of  misfortune  and  disappointment.  You 
will  allow  me  therefore  to  enumerate  a  few  points  on 
which  we  may  do  well  to  meditate,  that  our  profiting 
may  appear  to  all  men. 

I.    YOUTH  IS  THE    PERIOD   WHEN  THE   CHARACTER 

IS  FORMED.  This  is  universally  true.  I  am  not  pre- 
pared to  admit  that  there  is  a  single  exception.  All 
past  experience  testifies  that  in  youth  the  man  is 
moulded,  and  the  bent  given  to  his  character.  Even 


40  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

in  those  cases  where  the  young  man  grows  up  vir- 
tuous and  respected,  and  at  thirty  or  forty  years  of 
age  becomes  corrupted  and  debased,  we  shall  find  if 
we  rigidly  examine  his  early  history,  that  in  his  youth- 
ful days  the  foundation  of  a  vicious  character  was 
laid,  but  in  consequence  of  the  peculiar  circumstances 
under  which  he  was  placed,  that  character  was  not  de- 
veloped. This  is  the  testimony  of  many  who  have  died 
upon  the  scaffold.  They  have  stated  that  the  basis  of 
their  horrid  crimes  was  laid  perhaps  in  childhood,  or 
in  youth,  but  being  surrounded  by  virtuous  friends, 
the  evil  passions  were  restrained,  but  continued  pent 
up  in  the  bosom  like  the  fires  of  a  volcano.  When 
years  had  rolled  away,  and  there  was  less  desire  and 
inducement  to  keep  the  favor  of  society,  these  passions 
like  the  fires  of  heated  Vesuvius,  sent  out  their  dread- 
ful streams  of  moral  destruction.  On  the  other  hand 
you  find  many  who  in  their  younger  days  were  vicious, 
whose  youth  was  stained  with  crime ;  but  who  as 
years  rolled  away  reformed  from  vice  and  became 
useful  members  of  society.  A  careless  observer  of 
human  nature  would  suppose  that  reformation  was 
the  result  of  the  thought  and  reflection  of  years, 
that  as  the  mind  became  more  mature,  it  became  dis- 
satisfied with  the  follies  and  crimes  of  youth.  But  in 
a  majority,  and  perhaps  I  may  say  in  all  these  cases, 
this  is  not  the  fact.  Reformation  instead  of  being 
the  result  of  the  experience  and  observation  and  re- 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      41 

flection  of  years,  may  be  traced  back  to  childhood, 
to  some  isolated  circumstance  in  youth,  to  the  coun- 
sel of  some  Sabbath-school  teacher,  to  the  prayer  of 
a  dying  father,  to  the  exhortation  written  upon  the 
blank  leaf  of  the  Bible  by  a  sainted  mother,  or  to 
something  else  which  years  of  crime  have  been  un- 
able to  efface  from  the  memory.  To  illustrate  this 
point  a  few  cases  will  suffice.  The  character  of  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte  was  formed  in  youth.  His  weak 
but  ambitious  friends  taught  him  that  he  would  at  one 
day  be  a  great  conqueror.  To  inspire  him  with  the 
same  feelings,  they  formed  mimic  armies,  and  set  him 
at  the  head  of  them,  gave  him  a  love  of  conquest 
and  predominance,  and  thus  laid  the  basis  of  his  future 
character.  Had  the  same  care  and  expense  been 
used  to  make  of  him  a  different  being,  the  world 
would  never  have  been  astonished  by  his  deeds  of 
blood  and  crime.  He  might  have  been  a  Luther,  a 
Howard,  a  Wilberforce,  but  for  this  unfortunate  direc- 
tion of  his  youth.  The  plays  of  his  childhood  made 
him  the  ambitious  tyrant,  and  sent  him  like  a  scourge 
across  the  continent  of  Europe.  Hume  was  a  scep- 
tic. It  is  said  that  in  his  early  years  he  was  a  de- 
vout and  conscientious  believer  in  the  word  of  God, 
but  while  young  was  in  some  debating  association 
appointed  to  bring  forward  for  sake  of  controversy, 
the  arguments  of  the  infidel,  x  He  consented.  He 
stidied  long,  brought  his  acute  mind  into  contact 


42  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

with  the  sophistry  of  sceptics,  and  ere  he  was  aware 
of  it,  had  embraced  their  notions.  Like  melted  lava 
his  mind  received  sceptical  impressions,  and  then  con- 
gealed, and  his  whole  after  life  bore  the  deformed 
and  sightless  image  of  infidelity.  It  is  said  of  Vol- 
taire, one  of  the  most  brilliant  writers  of  his  age,  that 
when  five  years  old  he  committed  to  memory  an  in- 
fidel poem,  and  was  never  able  after  that  to  undo  its 
pernicious  influence  upon  his  mind.  He  lived  and 
died  a  corrupter  of  the  world,  and  thousands  who 
have  been  ruined  by  him  will  bewail  his  memory  to 
all  eternity. 

It  is  said  of  one  of  the  regicides  who  condemned 
to  death  the  unfortunate  Charles  Stuart,  king  of 
England,  that  in  early  life  he  was  of  immoral  charac- 
ter, but  when  about  ten  years  of  age  he.  was  passing 
a  church  in  London,  and  stood  at  the  door  a-while  to 
listen.  He  heard  distinctly  only  one  sentence,  "  If 
any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be 
Anathema  Maranatha."  He  passed  on  to  the  com- 
mission of  crime,  but  that  fearful  sentence  followed 
him  everywhere.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  it  had  pro- 
duced such  an  impression  upon  him  that  he  deter- 
mined to  reform,  and  became  a  man  of  influence  and 
virtue.  After  the  fall  of  Cromwell  and  the  restoration 
of  the  crown,  he  fled  to  another  country,  and  there 
when  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  that  single  sentence 
weighed  upon  his  mind  and  induced  him  to  become  a 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      43 

believer  in  Christ,  as  well  as  a  man  of  virtue.  This 
same  sentiment  will  be  illustrated  in  the  lives  of  all 
of  us.  As  young  men  we  are  forming  characters  and 
habits  which  will  affect  our  old  age,  and  make  us  vir- 
tuous or  vicious,  happy  or  miserable,  in  life's  decline. 
I  think  I  hazard  nothing  in  saying  that  but  few  char- 
acters change  materially  after  the  age  of  twenty-five 
or  thirty.  By  that  period  habits  become  fixed,  im- 
pressions formed,  and  the  future  character  of  the  man 
made.  Nor  is  there  so  wide  a  difference  in  the  minds 
of  the  young,  as  many  seem  to  suppose.  There  are 
not  those  towering  distinctions  at  birth,  which  in  after 
years  make  some  intellectual  wonders,  and  assign 
others  to  ignorance  and  degradation.  Though  a 
natural  difference  of  mind  does  undoubtedly  exist,  yet 
I  apprehend  that  early  impressions,  and  the  discipline 
of  youth,  go  further  to  make  men  intellectual  giants 
or  pigmies,  than  any  original  endowment  of  mind. 
The  bearing  of  these  remarks  and  illustrations  upon 
young  men  will  be  plainly  seen.  If  character  is 
formed  in  youth,  then  it  follows  that  we  are  moulding 
our  future  lives,  and  by  every  act,  writing  out  our 
own  history.  If  we  form  correct,  virtuous,  and  man- 
ly habits,  they  will  follow  us  to  our  graves,  they 
will  mark  us  through  all  our  earthly  course,  and  be 
the  ornaments  which  shall  deck  our  declining  years. 
Look  among  the  aged,  and  you  will  find  various  char- 
acters ;  the  vicious  and  the  virtuous,  and  if  you  search 


44  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

out  the  history  of  each,  you  will  find  that  age  corre- 
sponds with  youth.  The  miser  was  miserly  when  he 
was  young.  The  aged  gambler  commenced  gambling 
in  some  form  when  he  was  young.  The  drunkard 
learned  the  vice  in  his  youth.  The  hoary  thief  was 
a  dishonest  boy.  The  sceptic  drank  in  the  poison  of 
his  infidelity  in  early  life.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
will  find  that  the  virtuous,  laid  the  basis  of  that  virtue 
in  years  long  since  gone  by.  The  lover  of  inspira- 
tion learned  it  on  his  mother's  knee,  or  around  the 
family  altar.  The  respecter  of  God,  learned  it  ere 
this  deceitful  world  had  marked  its  images  of  sin  and 
woe  upon  the  soul,  as  deeply  as  in  mature  years. 
Ask  Philip  Doddridge  where  he  obtained  the  elements 
of  his  noble  character  ?  and  he  will  tell  you  the  story 
of  his  mother,  teaching  him  to  love  God  by  sentences 
written  on  the  tiles  which  composed  the  hearthstone. 
Ask  Richard  Baxter  where  he  obtained  his  character  ? 
and  he  will  tell  you  of  the  efforts  made  by  his  father 
upon  his  youthful  mind  and  heart.  Go  to  a  host  of 
others  and  ask  the  same  question,  and  they  will  point 
back  through  years  of  sin  and  sorrow  to  youth  or 
early  manhood.  Scripture,  nature,  history,  are  all 
full  of  the  same  sentiment,  and  in  their  various 
ways  inculcate  the  same  truth.  They  alike  de- 
clare that  age  is  unbending  as  the  forest  oak,  while 
youth  is  as  pliable  as  the  tender  sapling  —  that 
age  is  as  insensible  to  new  impressions  as  the  har- 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      45 

dened  rock,  while  youth  is  as  yielding  as  the  undried 
clay. 

"  A  pebble  on  the  streamlet  scant, 

Has  turned  the  course  of  many  a  river ; 
A  dewdrop  on  the  baby  plant, 
Has  warped  the  giant  oak  forever." 

Hence  if  we  would  form  right  characters  ourselves, 
or  help  others  to  form  right  characters,  we  must  begin 
before  the  middle  of  life.  We  must  take  the  sapling 
ere  it  becomes  a  gnarled  and  tangled  oak ;  we  must 
take  the  little  rivulet  ere  it  has  become  swollen  to  a 
mighty  river ;  we  must  take  the  clay  ere  it  has  been 
hardened  into  flinty  rock,  and  rendered  insensible  to 
impressions. 

II.   YOUTH  IS  A  SEASON   OF   GREAT  ARDOR,  GREAT 

FOLLY,  AND  GREAT  MISTAKES.  The  ardor  of  youth 
is  proverbial.  Scarcely  a  young  man  can  be  found 
whose  heart  does  not  beat  with  high  hopes,  and 
whose  bosom  does  not  thrill  with  strong  emotions. 
So  short  has  been  their  acquaintance  with  the  world, 
that  they  have  not  learned  how  deceitful  are  its 
pleasures,  and  how  vain  its  pursuits.  Hence  they 
are  flattered  by  every  prospect,  and  engage  in  the 
various  employments  of  life  with  the  whole  heart  and 
strength.  Old  men  distrust  the  world,  they  have 
been  cheated  by  its  hollow  promises  so  many  times, 
that  they  have  become  cautious  and  prudent.  Not 
so  with  the  young.  If  you  will  look  over  community 


46  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

you  will  find  that  those  who  are  pushing  into  every 
hazardous  enterprise,  who  are  concocting  schemes  for 
reforming  or  deforming  men,  who  embrace  the  wild 
and  extravagant  theories  which  are  abroad,  are  drawn 
mostly  from  the  young  and  inexperienced  portion  of 
society.  Old  men  love  the  past,  and  live  in  it. 
Young  men  live  in  the  future.  Progress  is  their 
watchword,  and  they  move  onward,  whatever  may  be 
before  them.  Our  fathers  respect  venerable  institu- 
tions, and  have  no  desire  for  change.  Their  sons  look 
with  contempt  upon  the  past,  and  regard  nothing  on 
account  of  its  antiquity.  The  old  way  of  living  is  te- 
dious and  irksome,  and  men  live  faster,  move  faster, 
think  faster  than  in  former  times.  Old  men  are 
content  with  doing  a  reasonable  business  ;  young  men 
need  a  California  to  make  them  rich  in  a  single  hour. 
Our  old  men  are  willing  to  live  in  comfortable  habi- 
tations in  the  quiet  village  ;  our  young  men  talk  of 
revelling  in  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas.  Our  old 
men  are  willing  to  study  to  be  wise,  and  have  made 
life  a  college  course  ;  our  young  men  are  ground  out 
through  intellectual  mills,  into  the  hopper  of  which 
the  dunce  and  the  prodigy  go  together.  Our  old 
men  are  content  to  live  at  home  and  practise  life's 
stern  duties  ;  our  young  men  talk  of  travel.  They 
wish  to  stand  on  the  Alps,  or  dig  into  the  ruins  of 
Herculaneum  and  Pompeii.  They  must  walk  the 
blood-stained  streets  of  Paris  —  traverse  the  lanes 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      47 

and  avenues  of  London,  or  mingle  with  the  Italian 
throng  as  they  crowd  the  streets  of  Rome.  Our  old 
men  were  willing  to  work  for  the  bread  they  ate,  and 
the  cup  of  milk  which  they  drank  when  weary ;  our 
young  men  have  made  servants  of  iron,  and  fire,  and 
water,  and  converted  them  into  curious  combinations, 
to  perform  labor  once  done  by  human  hands.  These 
different  changes  have  been  effected  by  the  restless 
activity  of  the  young.  The  earnestness  of  youth  is 
devoted  to  improvement,  and  the  changes  which  we 
see,  are  the  results  of  that  earnestness.  Nor  would 
we  have  it  otherwise.  Improvement  is  the  order  of 
life,  progress  the  law  of  society,  and  God  has  wisely 
placed  old  men  and  young  men  in  the  world  together, 
that  the  young  might  drag  the  car  of  reformation, 
while  the  aged  guide  and  control  it. 

But  while  the  energy  of  young  men  suggests  so 
many  improvements  in  society,  it  also  leads  to  many 
mistakes  and  follies.  They  who  rush  forward  at 
every  call,  heedless  of  consequences ;  who  stand  in 
front  of  every  battle  ;  who  are  earnest  for  every  new 
theory,  will  be  liable  to  meet  with  disaster  and  defeat. 
The  locomotive  on  the  rail  road,  which  has  the  hea- 
viest press  of  steam,  will  perform  the  journey  in  the 
shortest  time,  and  will  also  be  more  liable  to  leap 
from  the  track,  and  dash  itself  and  the  train  which 
follows  it,  into  ruin.  The  liability  to  disaster  is  pro- 
portionate to  the  pressure  of  steam.  The  mail-steamer 


48  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

in  crossing  the  ocean  will  be  likely  to  make  a  quicker 
passage,  if  she  builds  her  fires  hotter,  and  crowds  her 
sails,  and  generates  her  steam  more  liberally;  and 
she  will  also  be  more  likely  to  meet  with  accident, 
and  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  The  danger  is 
commensurate  with  the  extraordinary  speed.  Thus 
is  it,  to  some  extent,  with  the  energy  of  youth. 
While  confined  to  certain  limits,  and  flowing  in  a 
proper  channel,  it  will  secure  the  desirable  result. 
But  the  more  haste  we  make  to  be  rich,  the  more 
eagerly  we  grasp  for  fame,  the  more  zealous  we  are 
in  any  cause,  the  more  liable  are  we  to  overstep  the 
limits  of  prudence,  and  fall  into  fatal  errors. 

And  thus  has  it  been  in  all  the  history  of  the  past. 
The  enthusiasm  of  youth  has  led  many  into  sad  mis- 
takes, and  these  mistakes  have  ended  in  the  complete 
overthrow  of  the  most  brilliant  schemes.  How  many 
young  men  have  commenced  business  with  the  lauda- 
ble purpose  of  supporting  themselves.  Before  them 
the  road  to  fortune  was  open,  and  they  entered  it. 
One  speculation  after  another  presented  itself,  one 
plan  after  another  was  adopted.  Day  by  day,  and 
week  by  week,  they  ventured  into  deeper  water, 
and  took  upon  themselves  new  obligations.  Soon, 
instead  of  finding  themselves  the  possessors  of  a  for- 
tune, they  were  bankrupt,  and  perhaps  with  the  loss 
of  money,  came  also  the  loss  of  credit  and  character. 
The  tide  of  Hie  is  dotted  with  the  wrecks  of  character, 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      49 

with  the  ruins  of  young  men  who  started  fair  and  with 
high  prospects  of  usefulness,  but  who  have  failed,  sig- 
nally and  fearfully  failed.  And  why  have  they  fail- 
ed ?  Simply  because  they  refused  to  profit  by  the 
experience  of  those  who  have  preceded  them,  and 
have  allowed  the  zeal  of  youth  to  trample  upon  reason, 
and  blind  the  judgment  and  the  conscience.  A  ma- 
jority of  the  failures  which  are  made  by  our  young 
men  might  be  avoided,  would  they  heed  the  injunc- 
tion of  Paul,  and  meditate  upon  these  things,  which 
so  intimately  concern  their  success  in  this  life,  and 
their  happiness  beyond  it.  'They  who  rush  out  into 
life  determined  to  pluck  its  flowers,  must  look  and 
see  where  they  grow.  If  they  bloom  upon  the  border 
of  some  dark  precipice,  they  must  tread  cautiously, 
lest  they  stumble  in  the  attempt  to  secure  the  prize. 
If  some  venomous  serpent  lies  coiled  up  at  the  root, 
they  must  be  careful  lest  the  hand  which  plucks  the 
flower  should  be  bitten  by  the  viper. 

III.   YOUTH  IS  A  PERIOD  OF  GREAT  EFFORTS  AND 

GREAT  RESULTS.  There  has  existed  a  notion  in  time 
past,  that  age  alone  was  capable  of  performing  great 
deeds,  and  accomplishing  vast  results.  This  notion 
has  become  to  a  great  extent,  a  common  sentiment, 
and  we  are  apt  to  pass  by  young  men,  and  deem  them 
unworthy  of  notice,  because  their  heads  are  not  cov- 
ered with  silver  locks,  and  their  limbs  trembling  on 
the  borders  of  the  grave.  I  admit  that  age  has  the 
4 


50  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

most  experience,  that  old  men  are  likely  to  act  with 
more  prudence  and  caution,  but  I  also  contend  that 
youth  may  put  forth  efforts,  and  lead  to  great  results. 
The  history  of  the  world  has  proved,  that  the  young 
are  better  fitted  for  active  or  laborious  service,  than 
are  their  fathers,  and  in  every  enterprise  where 
labor  is  required,  we  naturally  look  to  young  men. 
Our  hostile  armies  are  composed,  to  a  considerable 
extent,  of  young  men ;  our  most  distinguished  writers 
and  statesmen,  commenced  in  early  life  ;  our  poets 
and  orators  earned  some  of  their  freshest  laurels 
while  in  the  morning  of  their  days. 

From  a  work*  published  a  few  years  since,  I 
have  gathered  a  few  facts  bearing  upon  this  very 
point  —  facts  which  clearly  illustrate  my  position, 
and  prove  that  youth  is  capable  of  great  deeds, 
and  if  properly  improved  will  accomplish  vast  re- 
sults. "  It  is  said  that  one  of  the  greatest  mili- 
tary men  of  the  world,  Alexander  the  Great,  was  less 
than  thirty-three  years  old  when  he  subdued  his  ene- 
mies in  Greece,  took  possession  of  the  neighboring" 
countries,  passed  into  Asia,  conquered  the  whole  of 
Asia  Minor,  Syria,  Egypt,  and  Persia,  besides  count- 
less smaller  kingdoms  and  a  large  part  of  India." 
"  Hannibal,  who  was  the  most  formidable  enemy 
which  Rome  ever  had,  was  made  General  at  the  age 
of  twenty-tivo.  By  the  time  he  was  twenty-eight,  he 

*  Patton's  Lectures  to  Young  Men. 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      51 

had  driven  the  Romans  from  Spain  and  Gaul,  had 
crossed  the  Alps  with  an  immense  army,  and  by  the 
battle  of  Canae,  had  brought  Rome  itself  into  dan- 
ger of  capture."  "  Bonaparte,  at  the  age  twenty- 
seven,  was  made  General  of  the  French  armies ;  after 
which  he  subdued  the  whole  of  Italy,  passed  into 
Egypt,  was  made  First  Consul  at  the  age  of  thirty, 
and  having  like  Hannibal  crossed  the  Alps,  and  by 
the  decisive  victory  of  Marengo  again  subdued  Italy, 
was  eventually  crowned  Emperor,  having  gained 
some  of  his  most  brilliant  victories  by  the  time  he 
had  reached  the  age  of  thirty-five"  "  Hernando 
Cortes,  the  conqueror  of  Mexico,  pushed  his  way  up 
from  obscurity,  became  commander  of  the  expedition 
to  Mexico,  and  by  consummate  boldness  and  unmiti- 
gated villany,  became  at  the  age  of  thirty-five,  the  mas- 
ter of  the  Aztec  Empire."  "  If  we  turn  to  literary 
men,  poets,  orators  and  philosophers,  we  find  Burke 
laying  the  foundation  of  his  reputation  for  eloquence  as 
a  writer  and  speaker,  as  early  as  his  twenty-seventh 
year,  and  composing  his  celebrated  treatise  on  the* 
4  Sublime  and  Beautiful,'  in  his  twenty-eighth  year." 
"  Lord  Bacon  at  the  age  of  sixteen  had  conceived  the 
design  of  overthrowing  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle, 
and  at  that  early  period  in  his  life  had  openly  ex- 
pressed and  promulgated  his  opposing  views."  "  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  had  made  his  most  important  discov- 
eries in  astronomy  and  mathematics,  before  he  had 


52  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

reached  the  age  of  thirty"  "  The  younger  Pitt  be- 
came Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  Prime  Minis- 
ter of  England,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-four,  and 
for  many  years  conducted  with  consummate  ability 
the  complicated  affairs  of  that  great  nation."  "  Lord 
Byron  published  many  of  his  choicest  poems  at  the  age 
of  thirty"  "  Burns  gave  to  the  public  some  of  his 
most  exquisite  compositions  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven" 
"Among  theologians  we  are  struck  with  the  fact 
that  Calvin  composed  his  celebrated  '  Institutes,' 
when  he  was  but  twenty-five  years  of  age."  "  Philip 
Melancthon  is  a  yet  more  wonderful  instance  of  what 
can  be  accomplished  hi  the  early  period  of  life.  At 
twelve  years  of  age  he  went  to  the  University  of 
Heidelberg,  and  at  fourteen  was  made  Bachelor  of 
Arts.  At  seventeen,  he  was  made  Doctor  of  Philoso- 
phy. At  twenty-one,  he  was  appointed  Professor  of 
Ancient  Languages  in  the  University  of  Wittemberg. 
While  but  a  lad,  he  distinguished  himself,  and  won 
the  praise  of  Germany  and  the  world."  "  Alexander 
Pope,  before  he  was  twenty-five,  had  written  many 
of  his  best  poems."  "  Dr.  D wight  commenced  the 
'  Conquest  of  Canaan,'  when  he  was  but  sixteen,  and 
completed  it  at  the  age  of  twenty-three"  To  these 
cases  might  be  added  a  multitude  of  others,  and 
among  them,  many  drawn  from  the  history  of  our 
own  country.  Eight  of  the  men  who  signed  the 
declaration  of  independence,  and  gave  to  the  world 


YOUTH  J   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      53 

that  noble  document,  were  under  tidrty-five  years  of 
age.  Lafayette  was  but  eighteen  when  he  stood 
shoulder  to  shoulder  with  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished officers  in  the  American  army,  and  at  the 
age  of  twenty-four,  led  on  the  National  Guards  of 
France.  Washington  was  but  a  lad  when  he  was  en- 
trusted with  important  offices,  and  some  of  his  most 
distinguished  battles  were  fought  in  his  early  youth. 
John  Quincy  Adams,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  was  pri- 
vate secretary  to  the  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  the 
Court  of  St.  Petersburgh.  From  this  time,  until  he 
was  chosen  president,  he  continued  to  receive  the 
most  brilliant  offices  which  the  government  could  be- 
stow, and  furnishes  us  with  a  remarkable  instance  of 
what  may  be  accomplished  in  one's  early  days.  He 
performed  more  in  boyhood,  than  most  men  accom- 
plish in  a  long  life  of  active  service. 

I  refer  to  these  cases  as  illustrations  of  the  truth 
of  the  statement,  that  youth  is  capable  of  great  re- 
sults, and  is  distinguished  for  great  deeds  as  well  as  for 
great  follies  and  crimes.  They  also  prove,  that  all 
which  has  been  done  to  reform  the  world  or  enlighten 
it,  or  make  it  wiser,  has  not  been  done  by  age  alone, 
but  that  youth  has  had  its  share  in  the  improvement 
and  adornment  of  mankind.  If  we  should  take  from 
the  world  what  has  been  done  by  young  men,  litera- 
ture and  science  would  be  divested  of  half  their 
beauty,  and  history  would  lose  half  the  brilliant 


54  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

deeds  which  it  now  records  with  triumph  and  satis- 
faction. 

Thoughts  like  these,  my  readers,  we  should  re- 
member. If  there  is  one  sin  to  which  youth  is 
more  addicted  than  another,  if  there  is  one  fault  to 
which  young  men  are  exposed  more  than  another,  it 
is  the  fault,  the  sin  of  thoughtlessness.  There  is  a 
haste,  a  precipitancy  in  the  movements  of  the  young, 
which  not  unfrequently  involves  in  ruin  the  fairest 
prospect  of  success  in  life.  The  apostle  Paul  who 
had  seen  more  of  life  than  his  young  disciple,  Timo- 
thy, knew  this,  and  urged  him  to  meditate  upon  things 
pure  and  excellent,  that  his  profiting  might  appear  to 
all.  The  same  caution  is  needed  by  the  young  men 
of  the  present  age,  and  unless  they  heed  it,  they  will 
place  in  jeopardy  the  dearest  interests  which  they 
cherish.  But  few  of  the  sins  of  youth  are  committed 
deliberately.  The  young  man  does  not  often  delibe- 
rately and  thoughtfully  strike  the  blow  which  commits 
him  to  the  dungeon,  or  brings  him  to  the  scaffold  — 
he  does  not  deliberately  enter  into  schemes  to  ruin 
others,  by  involving  them  in  pecuniary  or  moral  em- 
barrassment —  he  does  not  often  wilfully  and  mali- 
ciously enter  any  path  of  crime.  But  ere  he  is  aware, 
he  is  drawn  step  by  step  to  such  a  distance  from  the 
path  of  virtue,  that  the  passage  of  return  is  hedged 
up,  the  way  back  rendered  impassable,  and  he  goes 
on  to  end  maliciously  and  designingly  what  he  com- 


YOUTH  ;   ADVANTAGES  AND  DISADVANTAGES.      55 

menced  thoughtlessly.  Did  men  think  more,  how 
many  a  hand  would  be  held  back  from  crime ;  how 
many  lips  would  be  sealed  from  perjury  ;  how  many 
feet  would  turn  away  from  the  gates  of  hell.  You 
have  seen  the  sun  as  he  arose  in  the  east,  and 
dissipated  the  clouds  which  impeded  his  way  —  you 
have  seen  that  sun  struggle  through  the  mists  of 
morning,  a  bright  and  shining  luminary,  and  rise 
higher  and  higher  in  his  heavenly  progress,  until 
the  eye  of  the  eagle  was  unable  to  withstand  his 
gaze ;  you  have  seen  that  sun  high  in  the  heavens, 
scattering  his  beams  upon  man  below,  and  riding  in 
his  cloudy  chariot  crowned  with  fire,  the  acknow- 
ledged king  of  day.  You  h#ve  also  seen  a  comet, 
a  strange  erratic  thing,  seemingly  controlled  by  no 
law,  subject  to  no  government,  flaming  through  hea- 
ven, dazzling  the  world  for  awhile,  and  then  pass- 
ing away  in  darkness.  Like  that  sun  we  may  com- 
mence in  the  morning  of  life,  our  steady  onward  pro- 
gress, governed  by  laws  of  nature  and  of  God ;  we 
may  progress  in  life,  each  year  excelling  the  past 
in  virtue,  in  happiness,  in  holiness,  in  usefulness. 
Like  that  sun  moving  on  in  an  undeviating  course, 
obeying  with  all  precision  the  principles  which  control 
its  progress,  we  may  move  on  governed  by  laws  as 
certain,  and  better  understood ;  until  our  path  shall 
be  like  the  path  of  the  just,  which  shineth  brighter 
and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day.  Or  we  may  be 


56  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

like  the  comet,  dashing  from  its  course,  and  setting 
worlds  on  fire.  Like  the  comet  we  may  obscure  our- 
selves as  soon,  and  as  suddenly.  By  turning  from 
the  path  of  virtue  and  true  honor,  by  leaving  the 
great  principles  which  God  has  laid  down  in  his  word, 
we  shall  be  nothing  but  wrecked  and  ruined  spirits. 
Meditate  on  these  things,  while  life  is  young  and 
buoyant,  and  thy  sun  shines  fair.  Be  virtuous,  be 
good,  be  circumspect,  and  no  weapon  formed  against 
tihee  shall  prosper. 

, "  Virtue  may  be  assailed,  but  never  hurt ; 
Surprised  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthrall'd ; 
And  even  that  which  mischief  meant  most  harm, 
Shall  in  the  happy  trial  prove  most  glory." 


LECTURE   III. 

FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN   LIFE. 
So  BUN  THAT  YE  MAY  OBTAIN. — 1  Corinthians  9 :  24. 

REFERENCE  is  had  in  this  passage,  and  in  others 
of  a  similar  character,  which  are  scattered  through 
the  writings  of  the  apostle  Paul,  to  the  foot  races  of 
the  ancients.  In  the  Olympic  games,  foot-racing 
seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  most  honorable  and 
one  of  the  most  common.  Men  in  high  rank,  and 
men  in  low  rank,  were  accustomed  in  these  exercises 
to  contend  for  the  -prize,  and  he  who  was  successful 
was  wreathed  with  laurels,  and  received  the  praises, 
and  almost  the  homage  of  the  people.  As  the  com- 
petitors ran  in  the  race-course,  they  Avere  cheered  by 
the  assembled  multitude,  and  the  victor  deemed  him- 
self raised  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  earthly  fame. 

Paul  in  the  text  is  exhorting  the  Corinthian  Chris- 
tians to  run  the  spiritual  race,  and  earnestly  contend 
for  the  spiritual  prize.  He  urges  them  not  to  run  for 


58  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

a  corruptible  crown,  a  fading  laurel,  or  a  transitory 
breath  of  applause  ;  but  for  an  incorruptible  crown, 
an  unfading  laurel,  an  imperishable  glory.  He 
wishes  them  to  imitate  the  conduct  of  the  ambitious 
racers,  as  they  press  on  to  secure  the  reward  set  be- 
fore them,  and  be  as  zealous  to  run  the  Christian 
race,  as  were  they  to  receive  a  cluster  of  evergreens, 
and  the  shouts  of  an  excited  multitude. 

Human  life  may  well  be  compared  to  a  race-course, 
in  which  a  countless  number  of  persons  are  contend- 
ing for  the  prize.  The  aged  have  nearly  finished 
—  the  young  have  just  commenced.  The  prize  set 
before  them  is  success,  which  most  persons  suppose 
to  be  a  competent  support,  an  unsullied  reputation, 
and  a  useful  life.  And  indeed  if  we  confine  our- 
selves to  the  present  life,  and  leave  out  the  future, 
we  find  that  these  are  the  chief  elements  of  pros- 
perity, which  it  is  the  duty  as  well  as  the  right  of  the 
young  man  to  secure  if  possible.  But  in  order  to  se- 
cure prosperity  and  success  in  this  life,  care  must  be 
taken  and  effort  put  forth.  It  is  not  every  aspirant 
for  wealth,  fame,  and  pleasure,  that  will  secure  them. 
It  is  a  race  in  which  hundreds  and  thousands  are  dis- 
appointed at  every  trial,  and  where  one  succeeds,  and 
receives  the  wreath  of  victory,  many  others  tire  and 
faint  ere  half  the  course  is  finished.  In  the  Olympic 
games,  the  racers  were  required  to  make  extensive 
preparation  for  the  trial.  For  ten  whole  months  they 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  59 

were  accustomed  to  exercise  themselves,  and  were 
trained  by  different  masters,  to  all  those  exercises 
which  were  calculated  to  give  strength  and  vigor  to 
the  body.  Their  diet  was  strictly  regulated,  and 
during  a  part  of  the  time,  their  only  food  consisted  of 
dried  figs,  nuts,  and  other  similar  fruits.  When  they 
entered  the  race,  they  were  required  to  lay  aside  all 
unnecessary  clothing,  and  divest  themselves  of  every- 
thing which  could  impede  their  progress,  or  prevent 
their  running  with  the  greatest  speed. 

For  the  race  of  life,  preparation  will  be  needed. 
The  young  man  who  enters  it,  and  is  bent  on  secur- 
ing success,  will  find  that  one  path,  and  one  alone, 
leads  to  it ;  that  all  the  other  avenues  and  lanes  of 
life,  though  apparently  parallel,  are  leading  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  and  are  filled  with  pitfalls  and  dan- 
gers ;  that  there  is  but  one  star  which  guides  the 
traveller  through  it,  while  all  other  lights  are  as  de- 
ceptive as  the  ignis  fatuus,  which  plays  with  phos- 
phoric beauty  over  marshy  grounds,  upon  which  if  the 
foot  of  man  shall  tread  he  will  be  placed  in  fearful 
jeopardy.  He  will  find  that  life  is  no  rail  road,  along 
which  we  are  borne  without  toil  or  effort,  on  cushioned 
seats  or  downy  pillows  ;  that  life's  great  employment 
does  not  consist  in  plucking  flowers  and  listening  to 
sweet  music.  He  will  find  life  to  be  a  race,  a  contest 
not  of  whistling  locomotives,  not  of  white-winged 
ships,  but  of  toiling  men,  on  foot,  shoulder  to  shoulder, 


60  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

struggling  for  the  prize.  With  this  view  of  human 
life,  I  proceed  to  enumerate  SOME  OF  THE  SOURCES 
OF  SUCCESS. 

I.  INDUSTRY.  It  is  a  law  of  God,  an  ordinance  of 
Heaven,  that  man  shall  work.  It  is  a  fixed  princi- 
ple, a  certain  law,  that  in  the  sweat  of  the  brow  shall 
the  bread  be  eaten.  There  is  no  law  which  specifies 
a  man's  employment,  or  assigns  him  to  this  or  that 
post  of  toil.  There  is  no  arrangement  of  God  by 
which  one  is  to  cultivate  the  earth,  and  another  to 
manufacture  our  garments  and  construct  our  dwell- 
ings. He  has  in  no  way,  other  than  by  the  arrange- 
ment of  his  providence,  made  one  man  the  producer, 
and  another  the  distributor  of  his  bounty.  But  he 
has  made  labor  and  toil  essential  to  success  in  life, 
and  has  sent  his  decree  to  all  nations,  that  he  who 
worketh  not,  shall  not  eat.  I  am  aware  that  some- 
tunes  a  fortune  is  made  in  a  single  day ;  that  by  some 
turn  of  the  wheel,  a  poor  man  is  made  unexpectedly 
rich,  and  raised  at  once  from  poverty  to  affluence. 
But  such  fortunes  are  exceptions  to  the  ordinary 
course  of  events,  and  as  a  general  thing,  become  a 
curse  to  those  who  inherit  them,  or  to  their  children. 
The  ideas  which  men  cherish  of  becoming  rich  in  a 
moment,  of  making  a  fortune  by  a  ticket  in  the  lot- 
tery, by  a  throw  of  dice,  by  a  commercial  speculation, 
are  ah1  chimerical.  God  has  ordained  it  otherwise, 
and  though  by  these  methods,  money  in  immense 


FOUR  SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  61 

sums,  is  sometimes  obtained,  yet  it  goes  as  easily  as 
it  comes.  The  only  path  to  wealth  in  which  the  young 
man  can  travel  with  safety  is  industry.  The  only 
way  in  which  he  can  build  up  a  fortune  worth  possess- 
ing, is  by  toil  —  the  toil  of  years.  Deluded  and  de- 
ceived by  phantom  appearances,  the  farmer  is  often 
induced  to  leave  his  plough,  the  mechanic  his  work- 
shop, the  tradesman  his  store,  and  the  student  his 
books,  to  embark  in  some  wild  chase  for  wealth,  some 
erratic  scheme  for  gaining  the  smiles  of  the  god  of  gold, 
instead  of  being  content  to  plod  along  in  the  old  way, 
adding,  month  by  month,  to  the  increasing  fund  de- 
posited in  the  bank  or  invested  in  stocks.  Some  bril- 
liant chance  is  presented,  by  which  if  things  work 
well,  the  hundred  dollars  which  is  on  deposit,  may  be 
turned  into  a  thousand.  Filled  with  the  hope  of  being 
rich  at  once,  the  little  sum  which  has  been  earned  by 
hard  service,  is  invested,  the  note  of  the  speculator  is 
taken,  and  the  dupe  begins  to  dream  of  high  houses, 
broad  lands,  swift  horses — all  his  own.  Months  roll 
on,  and  he  finds  that  the  scheme  was  all  the  de- 
ception of  a  villain,  and  the  little  treasure  which  was 
placed  in  his  hands  is  gone.  If  you  will  glance  at 
the  lives  of  those  men  who  have  amassed  large  for- 
tunes, who  have  been  eminently  successful  in  commer- 
cial projects,  you  will  find  them  to  be  men  of  correct 
business  habits,  and  of  unwonted  effort.  You  will 
find  that  they  have  arisen  early  in  the  morning,  that 


62  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

they  have  worked  hard  during  the  day,  and  remained 
up  late  at  night.  Their  minds  and  hands  have  been 
busy,  their  whole  attention  has  been  given  to  the  ob- 
ject of  their  pursuit,  and  they  have  been  successful. 
Had  they  hi  early  years  substituted  hazard  and  specu- 
lation for  hard  work,  they  would  have  failed  of  secur- 
ing the  object  of  their  desires.  Had  they  been  de- 
luded by  some  gold-mine  monomania,  and  left  their 
families  and  homes,  and  gone  forth  across  mountains 
and  rivers  and  plains,  amid  wild  beasts  and  fiercer 
men,  to  dig  for  the  shining  ore,  they  would  have  dug 
into  their  own  graves.  Had  they  listened  to  the 
voice  of  every  wild-brained  moneymaker,  their  for- 
tune would  have  consisted  only  of  the  notes  of  bank- 
rupt speculators.  Had  they  tried  the  gaming-table, 
they  might  also  have  tried  the  penitentiary  and  the 
prison. 

I  know  there  is  a  charm  about  this  speedy  way  of 
making  money,  but  it  should  be  resisted.  The  young 
man  goes  into  the  bowling-alley,  the  gaming-saloon, 
and  sits  down  there  to  see  the  sport.  In  a  moment  one 
of  the  players  becomes  the  winner,  and  scrapes  the  shin- 
ing gold  at  once  into  his  pocket.  "  How  easily  this  is 
done,"  exclaims  the  novice.  "  Here  I  have  toiled 
hard  to  earn  ten  shillings  during  the  day,  and  this 
man  has  made  ten  dollars  in  a  single  hour."  He  feels 
for  his  purse,  and  finds  in  it  a  little  money  which  he 
was  reserving  for  his  wife  and  child  at  home.  He 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  63 

sits  down  to  play.  He  wins.  Twice,  thrice,  he  wins. 
He  runs  away  to  the  savings-bank,  where  he  has  laid 
up  a  few  hundred  dollars.  All  the  way  he  dreams 
of  gold  —  a  fortune.  The  gambling-room  seems  full 
of  money.  How  rich  he  will  be  to-morrow !  His 
wife  shall  now  live  in  splendor  —  his  child  shall  be 
brought  up  in  luxury.  With  one  dollar  he  won  ten, 
and  with  his  hundreds  he  may  Avin  thousands.  Thus 
speculating  he  returns  to  the  gay  saloon.  The 
sharpers  see  him  come,  and  wink  at  one  another. 
They  know  that  the  earnings  of  years  are  in  his 
purse,  and  their  code  of  honor  requires  its  transfer  to 
their  pockets.  The  foolish  one  sits  down  among  them, 
and  the  game  commences.  They  urge  him  to  drink. 
He  never  used  wine  before,  but  it  will  sharpen  his 
wits  now,  and  he  drains  the  cup.  The  game  excites 
him.  He  wins  and  loses  —  loses  and  wins.  At  mid- 
night he  thinks  of  returning  to  his  home,  but  on 
counting  his  money,  he  finds  that  on  the  whole,  he 
has  been  a  loser.  He  has  twenty  or  fifty  dollars  less 
than  when  he  commenced.  He  must  win  that  back 
again.  Again  they  gather  around  the  table  closer 
than  before,  and  our  hero  is  more  mad  than  ever. 
He  has  become  reckless.  He  stakes  his  all,  and 
loses.  The  toil  of  years  is  gone.  Excited,  madden- 
ed, infuriated,  drunk,  he  rushes  from  the  fatal  spot,  a 
ruined  man.  With  bloodshot  eyes,  and  haggard 
look,  he  returns  to  his  family,  and  changes  his  home 


64  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

from  paradise  to  perdition.     His  haste  to  be  rich  has 
destroyed  him. 

Nor  can  a  good  reputation  be  earned  in  an  hour. 
Those  men  who  have  secured  the  respect  and  esteem 
of  the  world,  as  philosophers,  statesmen,  and  philan- 
thropists, have  not  done  it  by  one  single  act,  or  by 
any  short  series  of  acts,  but  by  patient  and  persever- 
ing industry.  They  have  added  virtue  to  virtue,  one 
element  of  knowledge  to  another,  and  by  degrees  laid 
the  basis  of  a  valuable  character.  And  thus  must  it 
be  with  the  young  men  whom  I  address  to-night.  If 
they  would  be  successful  in  life,  if  they  would  acquire 
property,  secure  the  respect  of  mankind,  and  be  use- 
ful while  they  live,  they  must  do  it  by  the  patient  and 
persevering  industry  of  years.  Instead  then  of  de- 
vising schemes  for  sudden  aggrandizement,  go  to 
work  in  your  calling,  whatever  it  may  be,  lose  but 
few  half-days,  and  avoid  all  those  military  and  civic 
societies  which  are  forever  laying  assessments.  Be 
punctual  to  all  your  appointments.  Make  it  a  prin- 
ciple never  to  be  left  by  the  cars  or  the  stage-coach, 
never  too  late  at  the  table,  in  the  workshop,  or  in 
the  family.  Fortunes  and  characters  are  sometimes 
lost  by  a  want  of  punctuality,  and  one  of  the  most 
disagreeable  and  unprofitable  habits  which  we  can 
form,  is,  to  be  always  late.  A  distinguished  man  in  a 
neighboring  State,  a  man  of  wealth  and  influence, 
was  asked,  how  he  secured  so  large  a  fortune  in  sc 


FOUR  SOURCES   OP   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  65 

few  years  ?  Without  giving  a  direct  reply,  lie  said : 
"  I  was  never  late  at  an  appointment,  or  behind  my 
time,  in  my  life." 

Whatever  your  business  may  be,  persevere  in  it. 
Do  not  be  a  mechanic  to-day,  and  a  trader  to-mor- 
row —  a  lawyer  to-day,  and  a  minister  next  week  — 
a  school-master  now,, and  a  physician  soon.  "He 
who  has  learned  all  trades  is  good  at  none,"  and  he 
who  is  driving  from  one  employment  to  another,  will 
generally  fail  in  all.  The  chimney-sweep  with  his 
black  face  and  sooty  blanket,  will  become  a  -richer 
man  than  one  who  stays  in  one  branch  of  business 
only  until  he  can  find  another. 

Remember,  too,  that  industry  is  honorable,  and 
idleness  disgraceful.  The  rich  man,  the  possessor  of 
millions,  who  allows  his  wealth  to  purchase  for  him 
exemption  from  toil,  is  a  disgrace  to  his  race.  He 
forfeits  not  only  his  claim  to  his  fortune,  but  to  his 
character,  and  should  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
drones  which  society  is  compelled  to  drag  along  with 
it.  The  notion  which  prevails  extensively  in  Europe, 
and  in  our  southern  States,  and  to  some  extent,  in  en- 
lightened and  beloved  New  England,  that  labor  is 
disgraceful,  is  a  false  notion,  and  should  receive  the 
contempt  of  all  men.  The  green-jacket  of  the  mason, 
or  the  carpenter,  besmeared  with  lime,  or  covered 
with  dust,  is  as  honorable  as  the  broadcloth  of  'the 
merchant  whose  ships  are  in  every  port.  The  black- 
5 


66  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FBIENp. 

smith's  hammer  is  as  honorable  as  the  sheriff's  staff. 
The  busy  hum  of  labor,  is  as  eloquent  as  the  plea  of 
the  laAvyer,  or  the  charge  of  the  judge.  And  so  all 
those  men  who  have  been  truly  great  have  regarded 
it.  Washington  was  not  ashamed  to  acknowledge 
himself  a  farmer,  and  when  his  services  were  re- 
quired by  his  country,  he  went  from  his  field  to  the 
presidency,  and  when  he  had  accomplished  his  mis- 
sion, he  retired  to  his  toil  again.  A  large  majority 
of  the  men  who  have  been  members  of  Congress,  have 
been  hard-working,  industrious  farmers  and  mechanics, 
who  have  been  selected  by  the  people,  as  best  adapted 
to  aid  in  the  councils  of  the  nation.  The  best  and 
greatest  men  we  have,  are  found  to  be  those  who  re- 
gard labor  as  an  honor  rather  than  a  crime.  An 
amusing  anecdote  is  related  of  Prof.  Stuart,  one  of  the 
best  scholars  of  the  age,  which  illustrates  his  opinion 
of  that  class  of  men  who  despise  toil,  and  seek  to 
avoid  it :  "A  student  from  one  of  the  southern 
States,  hi  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Andover,  had 
purchased  some  wood  and  was  exceedingly  embar- 
rassed at  being  unable  readily  to  obtain  some  one  to 
saw  it  for  him.  He  went  to  Prof.  Stuart,  to  inquire 
what  he  should  do  in  such  an  unfortunate  predica- 
ment. The  learned  professor  replied,  that  he  was  out 
of  a  job  himself,  and  he  would  saw  it  for  him."  * 
IE.  FRUGALITY.  If  there  is  a  contemptible  man 

*  Arvine's  Cyclopaedia. 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   EST   LIFE.  67 

on  earth,  one  who  seems  to  have  lost  sight  of  the 
true  design  of  life,  one  who  has  no  idea  of  true  en- 
joyment, it  is  the  avaricious  mis«r.  It  is  a  sad  sight 
to  see  a  human  being,  whose  spirit  will  soon  stand 
before  God,  and  whose  body  will  erelong  crumble 
back  to  dust  and  ashes,  heaping  up  gold,  only  that 
he  may  hide  it  from  every  gaze  but  his  own,  that  he 
may  count  it  over  and  over,  and  dream  about  it  at 
night,  and  gloat  over  it  by  day,  and  die.  It  is  also 
disgusting  to  see  a  man,  who  if  he  does  not  go  to 
such  an  extreme,  seems  desirous  of  keeping  all  he 
gets,  refusing  the  calls  of  benevolence,  denying  the 
claims  of  nature,  that  he  may  retain  what  he  by 
honesty  or  dishonesty,  may  have  secured.  But  if 
avarice  and  covetousness  are  to  be  condemned,  so 
are  extravagance  and  prodigality.  There  are  many 
young  men  in  the  country,  who  practise  no  economy 
in  their  pecuniary  transactions.  While  they  have 
money,  it  goes  with  a  lavish  hand.  The  present  mo- 
ment, they  provide  for,  and  leave  the  future  to  care 
for  itself.  It  matters  not  whether  their  income  is 
three  hundred  or  three  thousand  dollars,  they  spend 
it  all,  and  until  they  come  to  the  bottom  of  the  purse, 
they  live  high  and  fast.  I  think  I  may  be  allowed 
to  say  that  extravagance  is  one  of  the  sins  of  youth. 
In  the  desire  which  young  men  have  to  avoid  a 
mean,  niggardly  spirit,  they  are  apt  to  lean  to  the 
side  of  prodigality,  and  become  spendthrifts.  This  is 


68  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

the  reason  why  we  find  so  few  men  who  are  in  posses- 
sion of  any  considerable  amount  of  property.  Every 
desire  must  be  gratified,  every  wish  complied  with, 
and  thus  thousands  are  kept  poor,  who  otherwise 
would  be  in  independent  circumstances.  Fortunes  are 
squandered  every  year  by  those  who  in  after  life  will 
look  back  with  regret  to  the  scenes  of  youth ;  squander- 
ed, too,  to  secure  objects  which  are  entirely  worthless. 

I  will  not,  of  course,  specify  the  particulars  in 
which  economy  may  be  practised.  They  will  readi- 
ly present  themselves  to  your  own  minds,  and  if 
you  will  appeal  to  your  past  experience,  short  as 
it  may  have  been,  you  will  find  it  confirming  my 
statement.  True,  the  amount  spent  daily  in  the  pur- 
chase of  useless  things  is  small.  When  looked  at  by 
itself,  it  seems  an  insignificant  sum ;  but  multiply  it 
by  the  days  in  the  year,  and  the  number  of  years  of 
life,  and  it  is  magnified  to  a  competency,  which  no 
man  would  despise. 

Beside  the  tendency  of  extravagance  to  poverty, 
it  is  the  basis  of  many  habits  equally  pernicious 
as  itself.  The  prodigal  knows  not  when  to  stop. 
His  own  substance  he  wastes  with  riotous  living, 
the  portion  which  he  inherits  from  father  or  mother, 
is  scattered  like  the  leaves  before  the  blasts  of 
Autumn,  and  unless  his  heart  is  doubly  guarded 
against  temptation,  he  will  resort  to  fraud  or  for- 
gery to  maintain  the  position  in  society  which  his 


FOUR   SOURCES   OP   SUCCESS  IN   LIFE.  69 

extravagance  has  purchased  for  him.  The  income  of 
most  young  men  is  small.  If  they  have  many  wants 
to  gratify,  that  income  will  be  insufficient  for  them, 
and  some  other  source  of  revenue  must  be  found. 
Those  little  "six  cent"  desires  which  accumulate  so 
fast,  are  the  ones  which  drive  so  many  hundreds  of 
young  men  to  the  gaming-table,  and  induce  them  to 
become  worthless,  idle,  and  dissipated.  Extrava- 
gance is  the  parent  of  many  crimes,  and  has  destroy- 
ed fortunes,  blasted  characters,  and  been  to  our  young 
men  the  prolific  source  of  evil  and  sorrow.  The  re- 
cords of  bankruptcy,  the  gaming-table,  the  cell  of  the 
forger,  the  prison  of  the  felon,  are  all  eloquent  upon 
this  subject,  and  utter  their  mournful  lessons  of  wis- 
dom and  experience, 

"  Look  round,  the  works  of  waste  behold, 
Estates  dismember'd,  mortgag'd,  sold  ! 
Their  owners  now  to  jails  confin'd, 
Show  equal  poverty  of  mind." 

III.  TEMPERANCE.  Intemperance  has  long  been 
a  fearful  scourge.  Though  checked  and  controlled 
to  some  extent  now,  it  is  still  making  fearful  ravages. 
Years  ago  almost  all  men  were  in  the  habit  of  using 
intoxicating  liquors.  Through  whole  communities  but 
few  could  be  found,  who  had  rigidly  abstained  from  its 
use.  The  farmer  could  not  plough  his  field  without 
it.  The  mechanic  could  not  hew  his  timber,  or  fashion 
his  iron,  without  it.  The  lawyer  could  not  prepare 


70  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

his  brief,  the  physician  could  not  visit  his  patients 
without  it.  The  minister  could  not  preach  without  it, 
and  doubtless  many  of  the  sermons  of  our  old  divines 
were  written  and  delivered  under  its  influence.  It 
was  used  at  the  marriage  festival,  and  hi  the  chamber 
of  mourning,  in  the  halls  of  the  living,  and  over  the 
graves  of  the  dead.  It  was  the  companion  of  soli- 
tude, and  the  friend  of  the  crowded  assembly;  it 
held  dominion  in  the  house  of  God,  and  amid  scenes 
of  violence  and  disorder.  But  times  have  changed. 
Intemperance,  open,  reeling  intemperance,  has  become 
disreputable  and  criminal,  and  we  shrink  from  the  ex- 
ample of  the  tattered  inebriate  as  from  the  pestilence. 
But  still  intemperance  in  other  forms,  is  almost  as 
prevalent  as  in  the  days  of  our  fathers.  The  wine- 
cup  is  circulated  freely  and  fearlessly,  and  hundreds 
of  young  men  are  ruined  by  it  annually.  Now  suc- 
cess in  life  is  out  of  the  question  unless  the  wine-cup 
and  the  maddening  bowl  are  totally  abjured,  unless 
rigid,  consistent,  manly  temperance  is  made  the  rule  of 
life.  Drink  tendeth  to  poverty,  and  bankruptcy;  rain, 
rags  and  misery  are  as  sure  to  follow  a  course  of  in- 
temperance, as  is  light  to  follow  the  rising  of  the  sun. 
I  knew  a  young  man,  who  three  years  since,  was  vir- 
tuous, loved,  and  respected.  He  had  just  established 
himself  in  business,  and  was  exceedingly  prosperous. 
He  was  often  seen  in  the  house  of  God,  and  around 
him  a  little  family  was  congregated.  His  connections 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  71 

were  respectable,  and  his  prospects  in  life  were  quite 
propitious.  He  had  an  intelligent  and  lovely  com- 
panion, whom  he  had  taken  from  a  home  of  wealth, 
refinement,  and  happiness.  He  had  everything  to 
make  him  comfortable,  and  lead  him  up  to  virtue  and 
to  God.  But  he  loved  his  wine,  and  deemed  it  an 
innocent  beverage.  Hence  he  drank  it,  and  became 
drunken.  Step  by  step  he  descended  the  drunkard's 
pathway.  Day  by  day  he  became  more  habituated 
to  the  fearful  vice.  Soon  all  restraint  was  gone, 
business  was  neglected,  home  deserted,  family  abused, 
confidence  and  reputation  gone,  and  the  once  pros- 
perous and  respectable  young  man  has  now  become 
an  outcast  and  a  vagabond.  Month  by  month,  I 
have  seen  the  cheek  of  the  wife  grow  pale,  and  lines 
of  sorrow  traced  on  her  once  happy  countenance. 
Week  by  week  I  have  seen  her  come  bending  to 
the  sanctuary,  to  find  solace  here  in  the  worship  of 
her  God.  Day  by  day  has  she  toiled  to  earn  money 
and  clothing  to  send  to  that  husband  who  has  desert- 
ed her,  and  whom  she  follows  like  a  ministering  an- 
gel. Three  years  have  been  sufficient  to  accomplish 
the  whole,  to  blast  the  fondest  hopes,  to  crush  the 
highest  aspiration,  to  shroud  a  family  in  ruin,  to  break 
the  heart  of  a  wife,  to  bring  disgrace  upon  the  child, 
to  make  the  hair  of  the  father  grey  with  sorrow,  (not 
with  age),  and  send  the  unhappy  cause  of  all  this, 
along  the  streets,  a  howling,  infuriated  drunkard. 


72  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

"  Ah !  drinking !  drinking !  bane  of  life, 
Spring  of  tumult,  source  of  strife, 
Could  we  but  half  thy  curses  tell, 
The  world  could  wish  thee  safe  in  hell." 

And  yet  with  the  fact  before  them,  that  intempe- 
rance is  destructive  to  life,  health,  property,  busi- 
ness, to  all  things  good,  many  of  our  young  men  are 
bringing  by  the  use  of  wine,  ruin  upon  themselves 
and  their  families.  Though  the  Golgotha  of  drunken- 
ness is  before  their  eyes,  though  all  the  past  is  point- 
ing to  the  long  army  of  inebriates  who  have  perished 
in  the  march  of  time,  yet  they  drain  the  cup,  swallow 
"  the  beverage  of  hell,"  as  though  it  was  the  water 
of  life. 

IV.  HONESTY.  This  I  conceive  to  be  the  crown- 
ing excellence  of  youth.  An  honest  young  man  has 
in  his  bosom  a  treasure  of  more  real  value  than 
the  wealth  of  nations.  Should  I  be  asked,  what 
would  most  contribute  to  a  man's  success,  in  any  vo- 
cation whatever,  I  would  reply :  HONESTY.  Should 
I  be  asked  what  would  most  certainly  prevent  suc- 
cess, I  would  reply :  DISHONESTY.  Now  it  occurs, 
that  to  dishonest  practices,  the  young  men  of  our  land 
are  particularly  exposed.  While  females  are  pro- 
tected from  the  temptations  to  this  sin,  while  from  the 
peculiarity  of  their  situation  in  society,  they  are  to  a 
considerable  extent  secure,  young  men  are  surround- 
ed with  inducements  and  temptations.  Just  com- 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  73 

mencing  life,  they  wish  to  do  well,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  imagine,  that  to  succeed  they  must  make 
money  fast,  and  get  rich  quick,  and  hence  to  secure 
this,  will  embark  in  many  a  scheme  of  doubtful  char- 
acter. The  expenses  of  poor  young  men  are  gene- 
rally more  than  equal  to  their  income,  and  if  they  are 
bent  on  living  extravagantly,  they  will  be  tempted  to 
enter  into  many  a  course  of  folly  and  crime  to  obtain 
the  necessary  funds.  But  however  expert  the  dis- 
honest man  may  be,  however  long  he  may  go  on  un- 
interrupted in  his  villany,  however  successful  he  may 
be  at  the  onset,  he  will  assuredly  fail.  The  forger 
cannot  long  continue  that  sin  without  detection ;  the 
counterfeiter  will  assuredly  be  taken  in  his  oNvn  snare  ; 
the  gambler  will  come  to  poverty,  and  the  thief 
will  bring  himself  to  the  prison  and  the  dungeon. 
There  is  no  safety  for  a  young  man  in  the  early  pe- 
riod of  life,  without  strict  and  unbending  integrity  in 
word  and  deed.  Complete  failure  will  sooner  or  later, 
come  upon  every  man  who  does  not  subscribe  to  the 
principles  of  rectitude.  I  know  that  dishonesty  is 
prevalent.  I  know  that  it  exists  everywhere,  and  to 
a  fearful  extent  enters  into  all  the  affairs  of  life.  As 
Shakspeare  says : 

"  To  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes, 
Is  to  be  one  picked  out  of  ten  thousand." 

Not  seldom  is  the  clerk  taught  to  inform  the  cus- 
tomer, that  certain  goods  cost  such  a  sum,  that  they 


74  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

are  durable  and  fashionable,  when  he  knows  it  to  be 
false.  Not  seldom  is  the  ignorance  of  the  purchaser 
made  the  cause  of  a  "  good  trade,"  and  apprentices 
are  led  to  look  upon  such  a  fraud  as  a  harmless  trans- 
action. In  these  and  a  thousand  other  ways  are  the 
principles  of  honesty  shamefully  violated  and  out- 
raged, and  the  basis  is  laid  for  a  long  and  aggravated 
course  of  crime  and  duplicity.  But  the  old  maxim, 
"  honesty  is  the  best  policy,"  will  be  found  to  be  true 
in  all  the  transactions  of  life.  What  though  a  man 
does  make  a  momentary  advance  in  his  business  by 
dishonesty  ?  What  though  at  the  end  of  each  year 
he  is  a  hundred  dollars  richer  than  he  would  have 
been  but  for  his  fraud  ?  What  though  he  may  have 
enlarged  his  store  and  beautified  his  residence,  and 
secured  the  smiles  of  the  wealthy  ?  What  though  he 
is  enabled  to  ride  in  his  carriage,  and  dress  in  gilt 
and  gold  ?  Will  not  the  vengeance  of  God  follow 
him  ?  Will  not  his  ill-gotten  gains  rust  and  canker 
his  heart  ?  Will  not  commercial  distress  or  some 
other  element  of  destruction  sweep  away  his  property, 
taking  the  well-earned  with  the  ill-gotten  ? 

I  knew  a  young  man  who  started  in  life  with  high 
hopes  and  prospects.  He  had  a  little  property  to 
commence  with;,  and  was  determined  that  it  should 
increase  at  all  hazard.  Honestly  or  dishonestly,  he 
was  bound  to  be  rich.  His  motto  was,  "  All  is  right 
in  trade,"  and  well  did  he  carry  it  out.  He  thought 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.  T5 

it  was  the  duty  of  his  customers  to  find  out  de- 
fects in  the  goods  which  they  purchased  of  him ; 
they  were  the  ones  to  discover  what  was  bad  in  the 
bargain.  He  supposed  he  was  clear  when  he  had 
made  the  sale,  and  felt  compelled  by  no  principle  of 
morality  to  help  his  customers  make  good  bargains. 
Thus  it  continued  awhile.  He  would  openly  boast 
of  having  made  this  sum  and  that  sum,  from  this  and 
that  person.  He  seemed  to  be  growing  rich,  his 
place  of  business  was  crowded.  \His  fair  stories  and 
smooth  looks,  drew  a  crowd  of  visitors,  and  for  awhile 
he  made  money  very  rapidly.  But  the  curse — God's 
curse  was  on  him  and  his  business.  When  he  least 
expected  it,  a  great  failure  in  another  city  occurred, 
the  intelligence  of  which  came  upon  him  like  a  clap 
of  thunder  in  a  cloudless  day.  Other  failures  follow- 
ed, and  he  began  to  reap  the  reward  of  his  dishonesty. 
When  he  began  to  sink,  reports  of  his  dishonesty, 
which  until  then  had  been  hushed,  spread  like  wild- 
fire, and  soon  he  found  it  impossible  to  continue 
his  business.  Those  who  had  money  and  goods  were 
afraid  of  him.  Confidence  in  his  character  was  gone, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  business  entirely, 
move  from  the  fine  house  in  which  he  lived,  and 
become  a  clerk,  and  was  looked  upon  with  suspicion 
even  at  that.  I  have  known  other  men  in  business, 
who  have  met  with  disasters  and  failures,  and  have 
stood  unaffected  by  them,  superior  to  their  crushing 


T6  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

influence,  from  the  simple  fact  that  they  were  honest 
men,  and  could  look  community  in  the  face  with  a 
consciousness  that  though  they  were  unfortunate, 
they  were  not  guilty.  Thompson  in  his  lectures  to 
young  men,  states  the  following  fact,  which  to  my 
own  mind,  is  of  considerable  interest.  "  The  late 
president  of  the  United  States  Bank,  once  dismissed 
a  private  clerk,  because  the  latter  refused  to  write  for 
him  on  the  Sabbath.  The  young  man,  with  a  mother 
dependent  on  his  exertions,  was  thus  thrown  out  of 
employment,  by  what  some  would  call  an  over-nice 
scruple  of  conscience.  But  a  few  days  after,  when 
the  President  was  requested  to  nominate  a  cashier  for 
another  bank,  he  recommended  this  very  individual, 
mentioning  this  incident  as  a  sufficient  testimony  to 
his  trustworthiness.  '  You  can  trust  him,'  said  he, 
'for  he  would  not  work  for  me  on  the' Sabbath.'" 
Awhile  since,  a  young  man  was  dismissed  from  his 
place,  because  he  would  not  become  party  to  a  false- 
hood, by  which  refusal  the  firm  failed  to  secure  seve- 
ral hundred  dollars  which  did  not  belong  to  them,  but 
which  they  expected  to  obtain.  For  the  crime  of 
honesty  and  truth  the  young  man  was  dismissed  from 
his  position.  A  few  days  afterwards  hearing  of  a  va- 
cant situation,  he  applied  for  it.  The  merchant  who 
wished  for  an  accountant,  asked  if  he  could  refer  him 
to  any  individual  with  whom  he  was  known,  and  who 
would  recommend  him  as  an  upright  young  man. 


FOUR   SOURCES   OF   SUCCESS   IN  LIFE.  77 

With  conscious  innocence,  and  firm  in  his  uprightness, 
he  replied,  "  I  have  just  been  dismissed  from  Mr. 

's,  of  whom  you  may  inquire.     He  has  tried 

me,  he  has  known  me."  When  applied  to,  his  former 
employer  gave  a  full  and  free  recommendation,  and 
added,  "  He  was  too  conscientious  about  little  mat- 
ters." The  young  man  is  now  partner  ha  a  large 
firm  in  Boston,  and  is  apparently  becoming  rich. 

A  multitude  of  cases  might  be  added,  illustrating 
the  value  of  honesty,  and  the  great  danger  and  shame 
of  falsehood  and  fraud.  Business  men  will  rehearse 
them  to  you  by  scores,  and  prove  that  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, "  honesty  is  the  best  policy."  And  so 
you,  my  young  friends,  will  find  it  in  all  your  deal- 
ings with  your  fellow-men,  and  as  you  grow  older  in 
life,  the  conviction  will  become  stronger  and  deeper, 
that  a  good  reputation  for  honesty  and  manliness  is 
above  all  price. 

"  The  purest  treasure  mortal  lives  afford, 
Is  spotless  reputation ;  that  away, 
Men  are  but  gilded  worms  or  painted  clay." 

Remember  these  things  as  you  advance  in  life,  my 
young  brethren,  and  as  you  grow  older  preserve  your 
integrity.  Be  above  the  little  arts  and  tricks  of 
small  men,  and  if  you  grow  rich,  let  it  be  by  honest 
and  patient  industry.  Build  not  up  a  fortune  from 
the  labors  of  others,  from  the  unpaid  debts  of  credi- 


78  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

tors,  from  the  uncertain  games  of  chance,  but  from 
manly  effort  which  never  goes  unrewarded.  Never 
engage  in  any  business  unless  you  can  be  honest  in 
it ;  if  it  will  not  give  a  fair  living  without  fraud,  leave 
it,  as  you  would  the  gate  of  death.  If  after  all,  you 
are  poor,  if  by  exerting  yourself  nobly  and  manfully, 
if  by  living  honestly  and  uprightly  you  cannot  secure 
a  competency,  then  submit  to  poverty,  aye,  to  hard, 
grinding  poverty.  Be  willing,  if  it  must  be  so,  to 
breast  the  cold  tide  of  want  and  sorrow,  see  your 
flesh  waste  day  by  day,  and  your  blood  beat  more 
heavily,  than  make  yourself  rich,  at  the  expense  of 
honesty. 

There  are  other  sources  of  success  in  life,  which 
might  be  mentioned,  but  these  four  will  suffice  for  the 
present  discourse.  If  a  young  man  is  industrious, 
frugal,  temperate,  honest,  he  will  also  have  many 
other  valuable  traits  of  character.  These  never  go 
alone.  They  bring  a  countless  host  of  virtues  and 
blessings  in  their  train.  Remember  also  that  it  is 
not  our  whole  object  to  become  rich  and  happy  here. 
We  are  immortal.  There  is  a  life  beyond  this  —  a 
world  to  come. 

"  Oh !  what  is  life  ?    At  best  a  brief  delight, 
A  sun,  scarce  bright'ning  ere  it  sinks  in  night ; 
A  flower,  at  morning  fresh,  at  noon  decayed ; 
A  still,  swift  river,  gliding  into  shade." 

We  know  that  delight  will  soon  be  gone ;  that  sun 


FOUR   SOURCES   OP   SUCCESS  IN   LIFE.  79 

will  set,  perhaps  in  tears ;  that  flower  will  droop, 
wither  and  decay ;  that  river  will  flow  on,  until  no 
human  eye  shall  be  able  to  trace  its  progress ;  but 
the  life  of  the  soul  continues,  and  is  to  be  affected  for 
weal  or  woe,  for  countless  ages,  by  its  narrow  and 
limited  stay  on  earth.  How  terrible,  then,  is  man's 
mission !  how  solemn  his  responsibilities !  how  glo- 
rious his  destiny ! 

"  'Tis  God's  all-animating  voice 

That  calls  thee  from  on  high ; 
'Tis  his  own  hand  presents  the  prize 

To  thine  uplifted  eye ;  — 
That  prize,  with  peerless  glories  bright, 

Which  shall  new  lustre  boast. 
When  victors'  wreaths  and  monarchs'  gems 

Shall  blend  in  common  dust." 


LECTURE   IV. 

INNOCENT    AMUSEMENTS. 

TO  EVEET  THING  THERE   IS  A   SEASON,  AND  A  TIME   TO   EVERT 
PURPOSE   UNDER   THE   HEAVEN. — EcclesiaSteS  3 :  1. 

WITH  pride  and  exultation  the  votary  of  pleasure 
will  often  refer  to  the  first  few  verses  of  the  chapter, 
from  which  my  text  is  taken,  and  draw  from  them  an 
argument  in  favor  of  sin  and  folly.  Is  there  not  a 
time  to  laugh  and  a  time  to  dance  ?  Does  not  inspi- 
ration tell  us,  that  mirth  and  cheerfulness  are  allow- 
able, and  that  the  sports  of  the  world  are  proper  ? 
Have  we  not  the  example  of  men  in  all  ages ;  not  the 
profane  and  sinful  merely,  but  the  best  and  noblest 
of  our  race  ?  These  and  kindred  questions  are  put 
to  us  with  triumph  by  the  seekers  of  pleasure  of  all 
kinds,  who  profess  to  be  acquainted  with  the  chapter 
under  consideration,  if  they  are  ignorant  of  all  the 
other  sacred  writings.  They  seem  to  have  made  this, 
their  study,  quote  it  with  freedom,  and  seem  wonder- 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  81 

fully  impressed  with  the  truth  of  Scripture,  when  they 
can  bring  it  to  bear  upon  the  pursuit  of  their  worldly 
and  carnal  amusements,  and  plead  the  example  of 
some  of  the  wise  and  good  men  who  have  fallen  inta 
error. 

But  those  who  read  with  attention  the  works  of 
Solomon,  could  never  come  to  any  such  conclusion. 
Raised  by  God  to  the  throne,  he  was  surrounded 
with  everything  to  make  him  happy.  His  kingdom 
was  glorious,  the  fame  of  his  administration  spread 
over  the  world,  and  wealth  poured  its  streams  lavishly 
at  his  feet.  Surrounded  by  life's  brightest  scenes, 
he  sought  awhile  his  pleasure  in  them,  he  builded 
houses,  he  planted  vineyards,  he  obtained  men-singers 
and  women-singers,  he  had  instruments  of  music,  and 
in  every  possible  way  strove  to  satisfy  the  longings 
of  his  nature  for  happiness.  Labor,  wealth,  skill, 
tune,  were  not 'spared,  but  all  contributed  to  the 
monarch's  pleasure.  Thus  he  lived  awhile,  until  the 
whole  head  was  sick,  and  the  whole  heart  faint — until 
he  was  convinced  that  all  the  objects  of  his  earthly 
pursuits  had  no  abiding  bh'ss,  and  he  turned  from 
them,  exclaiming,  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity." 

Nor  will  the  declaration  of  the  wise  man,  that 
there  is  "  a  tune  to  dance,"  extenuate  any  of  the 
sinful  amusements  of  the  present  age.  He  no  more 
intended  to  justify  that  debasing  and  ruinous  sys- 
tem, which  we  have  at  present,  than  to  justify  mur- 
6 


82  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

der  when  he  said,  there  is  "  a  time  to  kill."  The 
dancing  of  the  ancients  was  a  religious  and  healthy 
recreation.  It  had  no  resemblance  to  what  we  call 
dancing  now.  It  was  performed  with  pure  and  ele- 
vated motives,  and  had  no  tendency  to  debase  the 
mind  or  pollute  the  heart.  One  writer,  thinks  that 
"  it  always  was  a  religious  exercise  ;  that  dancing  for 
.amusement  was  sacrilege ;  that  men  who  diverted  it 
from  a  sacred  use  were  deemed  infamous,  and  de- 
clares, that  there  are  no  instances  upon  record  in  the 
Bible  of  social  dancing  for  amusement,  except  that  of 
the  vain  fellows,  void  of  shame,  alluded  to  in  Mi- 
cah;  of  the  irreligious  families  described  by  Job, 
which  produced  increased  impiety  and  ended  in  de- 
struction ;  and  of  Herodias,  which  terminated  in  the 
rash  vow  of  Herod,  and  the  death  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist." All  the  cases,  except  these,  were  on  occasions 
of  religious  festivity.  Dancing  was  merely  a  token 
of  joy  and  gratitude  to  God.  It  generally  followed 
great  victories,  and  was  attended  with  sacred  songs, 
and  the  sound  of  many  musical  instruments.  As  men 
now  clap  their  hands  and  shout  when  any  gratifying 
event  has  transpired,  so  the  ancients  sang  and  danced 
over  their  victories.  The  two  sexes  never  united  in 
it;  men  danced  alone,  and  maidens  danced  alone. 
They  crowded  not  into  pent-up  halls,  they  were  not 
excited  with  wine,  they  were  not  impelled  by  passion, 
they  were  not  moved  by  lust.  The  green  earth  waa 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  83 

their  festive  hall,  the  bright  sun  was  their  chandelier, 
the  golden  flowers  shed  their  fragrance,  and  nature's 
own  temple  gave  back  the  echo  of  their  glad  songs. 
To  compare  the  pure,  chaste  worship  of  the  ancients, 
with  the  brutish  dancing  of  the  present  time,  and  jus- 
tify one  by  the  other,  is  to  cast  dishonor  upon  God, 
and  insult  the  memory  of  his  worshippers. 

The  only  object  had  in  view  by  the  monarch  wri- 
ter, seemed  to  be  the  promulgation  of  the  sentiment, 
that  for  all  things  there  is  an  appointed  time  ; 
that  joy  and  sorrow,  work  and  play,  will  come  in 
their  order,  and  each  should  be  attended  to  in  its 
proper  place.  He  did  not  attempt  to  defend  vice,  or 
offer  a  plea  for  the  indiscriminate  pursuit  of  pleasure. 
All  his  writings  abound  with  warnings  and  cautions, 
and  utter  loudly  their  remonstrance  against  every 
course  of  sin. 

Without  further  introduction  I  will  turn  your  at- 
tention to  INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS,  OS  the  Subject 
for  consideration.  I  do  not  design  to  offer  an 
apology  for  any  of  the  vain  amusements  and  se- 
ductions of  the  world,  or  lead  you  to  look  with  less 
disapprobation  upon  the  vices  by  which  we  are  sur- 
rounded. Accursed  they  are,  and  accursed  they 
will  remain.  The  press  may  plead  for  them,  the  pul- 
pit may  apologize  for  them,  and  the  whole  country 
may  be  bent  on  their  pursuit,  but  God's  displeasure 
•will  follow  them,  and  their  votaries.  I  simply  wish 


84  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

to  offer  a  few  thoughts  on  amusements,  and  show  that 
the  highest  pleasures,  are  the  pleasures  of  innocence, 
and  that  sinful  amusements  fail  to  accomph'sh  their 
object.  Hence  I  remark, 

I.   MEN  NEED,   AND   WILL    HAVE    SOME    KINDS   OF 

RECREATION.  The  body  was  not  made  for  constant 
toil,  the  mind  -was  not  formed  for  constant  study. 
God  has  not  ordained  that  life  shall  be  spent  in  one 
continued  series  of  efforts  to  secure  the  things  of  this 
world.  He  has  fitted  man  for  enjoyment,  as  well  as 
labor,  and  made  him  susceptible  of  pleasurable  emo- 
tions. He  did  not  design  him  for  a  slave,  to  dig  the 
earth  awhile  and  die ;  to  toil  on  until  the  hour  of  death 
comes  to  conduct  a  shattered  system  back  to  dust 
and  ashes.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has  given  him  a 
physical  system  which  like  the  harp,  may  be  touched 
to  any  tune.  He  has  made  the  eye,  the  ear.  the 
mouth,  all  inlets  of  pleasure.  He  has  so  constituted 
us,  that  we  may  be  wound  up  to  the  highest  degree 
of  pleasure,  and  receive  through  the  medium  of  the 
senses  a  flood  of  happiness.  Besides  this,  he  has  ar- 
ranged the  outward  world  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
give  man  the  highest  enjoyment.  Had  God  designed 
man  for  ceaseless  labor,  he  would  not  have  given  him 
such  a  body  as  he  now  possesses,  he  would  have  dark- 
ened the  eye,  deadened  the  ear,  and  blunted  all  the 
nicer  sensibilities,  and  made  the  hand  as  hard  as  iron, 
and  the  foot  as  insensible  as  brass.  But  formed  for 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  85 

enjoyment,  we  find  men  seeking  it.  After  the  labor 
of  the  day  is  over,  and  the  toil  of  life  done,  they  turn 
to  every  quarter  to  find  some  source  of  recreation, 
some  avenue  of  life  which  is  fragrant  with  flowers  and 
which  echoes  with  sweet  music.  Now  this  desire  for 
recreation  instead  of  being  quenched,  should  be  con- 
trolled and  directed;  instead  of  being  totally  dis- 
couraged, it  should  be  turned  into  pure  and  holy 
channels,  and  made  to  result  in  the  good  of  man,  and 
the  glory  of  God.  One  great  mistake  made  by  the 
Puritans,  arose  from  a  desire  to  suppress  all  amuse- 
ments, to  quench  in  man  the  desire  for  mirth  and 
recreation,  to  make  youth  as  sedate  and  grave  as  age, 
the  child  as  sober  and  solemn  as  the  sire.  Hence 
instead  of  making  the  /Sabbath  a  day  of  holy  rest  and 
calm  enjoyment,  they  made  it  a  season  of  constraint 
and  fear.  Children,  instead  of  loving  to  have  its  sa- 
cred hours  arrive,  and  hailing  them  with  gladness, 
looked  forward  to  the  day  as  one  of  tedious,  irksome 
slavery,  on  which  they  would  be  required  to  engage 
in  meaningless  services,  answer  difficult  questions, 
and  sit  the  live-long  day  with  folded  hands,  and 
downcast  eyes.  They  pursued  the  same  course  in 
relation  to  other  things.  Sinful  amusements  were 
strictly  forbidden,  and  severely  punished.  .  By  the 
pulpit  and  the  press  they  were  denounced,  and  yet 
no  measures  were  taken  to  substitute  innocent  plea- 
sures in  their  stead,  or  furnish  panting  youth  with 


86  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

any  reasonable  source  of  relaxation.  The  conse- 
quence was,  the  young  chafed  under  these  restraints 
awhile,  and  then  broke  over  them,  and  rushed  out 
into  paths  of  folly  and  destruction. 

Not  unfrequently  we  hear  parents  lamenting  that 
they  cannot  keep  their  children  at  home  ;  that  they 
do  not  love  home  ;  that  very  early  in  life  they  have  a 
desire  for  the  company  of  strangers,  and  as  soon  as 
they  are  old  enough  will  wander  away  from  the 
mother's  prayer,  and  the  father's  counsel.  But  on 
investigation  we  generally  find  that  such  parents  are, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  responsible  for  the  conduct 
of  their  children.  They  have  failed  to  make  home 
what  it  ought  to  be.  They  have  not  made  it  attrac- 
tive and  pleasant.  They  have  not  provided  amusing 
and  profitable  books,  and  spread  arounJ  the  hearth- 
gide  those  allurements  which  are  necessary  to  engage 
the  attention,  and  secure  the  presence  of  the  young. 
It  is  impossible  for  us  to  love  unlovely  objects,  and 
HOME  cannot  be  loved,  if  the  father's  countenance 
wears  a  perpetual  frown ;  if  the  mother  is  fractious 
and  childish ;  if  occasional  disputes  disturb  the  har- 
mony and  prosperity  of  the  circle  ;  if  no  book  is  found 
on  the  shelf ;  if  no  kindly  sympathies  are  felt  and  ex- 
pressed. The  secret  of  saving  children  from  destruc- 
tion consists  to  a  great  extent,  in  maldng  home  lovely 
and  attractive,  and  did  parents  understand  this  secret 
they  would  not  be  called  upon  so  frequently  to  bewail 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  87 

the  conduct  of  prodigal  sons,  and  mourn  over  the  de- 
struction of  fallen  daughters.  A  clergyman  told  me, 
a  few  days  since,  that  he  had  a  son,  who,  when  quite 
a  child  manifested  an  uneasy  and  roving  disposition. 
Home  did  not  appear  attractive,  and  on  every  occasion 
he  would  steal  away  to  spend  the  evening  in  the  com- 
pany of  strangers.  Filled  with  anxiety,  the  father 
began  to  look  about  for  a  remedy.  He  watched  his 
son,  and  endeavored  to  discover  the  bent  of  his  inch- 
nation.  He  saw  that  the  boy  had  a  fondness  for  mu- 
sic, that  he  would  visit  those  places  where  singers  re- 
sorted, and  where  musical  instruments  could  be  found. 
He  saw  that  he  was  most  willing  to  visit  those  fami- 
lies where  the  piano  was  an  article  of  parlor  furniture, 
and  where  the  violin  or  the  harp  made  their  melody. 
His  course  was  founded  on  this  discovery.  He  pur- 
chased at  considerable  expense  an  instrument  of  mu- 
sic, and  spread  through  his  parlor,  note-books  and 
songs,  everything  of  that  kind  which  the  father's 
means  would  allow  was  furnished,  and  soon  the  son 
became  as  fond  of  home,  as  he  had  previously  been 
of  strangers.  His  talent  was  for  music,  but  as  he 
could  not  enjoy  it  at  home,  he  searched  for  it  where 
it  was ;  but  when  music  came  to  cheer  his  own  dwell- 
ing, he  had  no  occasion  to  leave  the  warm  hearth-side 
of  parental  kindness.  Were  I  speaking  exclusively 
to  parents,  I  would  urge  them,  to  make  home  happy, 
to  keep  all  strife  and  bitterness  away,  and  ever  in  the 


88  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

presence  of  children  wear  a  contented  and  cheerful 
look.  If  you  feast,  let  it  be  at  home,  and  let  chil- 
dren partake  of  the  good  things  ;  if  you  have  newspa- 
pers in  your  family,  have  among  the  rest,  one  adapted 
to  your  children  ;  if  the  profound,  logical  work  which 
you  read  yourself,  lies  upon  the  table,  let  one  be  be- 
side it,  adapted  to  your  children.  Make  them  think 
that  no  place  on  earth  can  compare  with  home,  and 
as  they  grow  older,  find  amusement  and  recreation 
for  them.  Be  not  afraid  to  hear  them  laugh,  though 
the  house  rings.  When  they  wish  for  sport,  do  not 
drive  them  out  into  the  street,  or  into  the  house  of  a 
good-natured  neighbor,  but  bear  a  little,  and  remem- 
ber that  you  were  once  a  child. 

The  same  remarks  are  applicable  to  a  whole  com- 
munity. If  there  are  no  seasons  of  reasonable  and 
pure  pleasure,  the  young  will  resort  to  enjoyments 
which  are  vicious  and  destructive.  If  the  social  cir- 
cle, the  literary  lecture,  the  musical  concert,  the  de- 
bating association,  the  circulating  library  are  not 
found,  the  theatre,  the  gaming-table,  the  ball-room, 
the  brothel,  will  have  full  success.  The  young  man 
needs  relaxation  and  change,  he  must  have  it,  it  is  in 
accordance  with  the  laws  of  his  nature,  and  if  he  can- 
not find  it  in  innocent,  he  will  resort  to  sinful  plea- 
sures. 

I  am  acquainted  with  a  town  which  a  few  years 
ago  was  notorious  for  the  variety  and  extent  of  ita 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  89 

sinful  amusements.  Every  evening  the  festive  hall 
was  lighted,  theatrical  performances  were  crowded 
with  visitors,  the  strolling  circus  found  ready  access, 
and  the  curse  of  God  seemed  to  have  settled  on  the 
place.  Pure  religion  died  out,  virtue  seemed  about 
to  follow,  and  error  and  sin  reigned  triumphant.  At 
length  two  young  men  determined  to  use  their  influ- 
ence to  check  the  progress  of  vice,  and  looking  at  the 
matter  philosophically,  they  went  to  work.  They  first 
formed  a  debating  society;  then  invited  a  learned 
gentleman  to  give  them  a  series  of  weekly  lectures  ; 
established  an  evening-school,  and  in  these  various 
ways  attempted  to  direct  the  mind  from  sinful  to 
innocent  amusements.  They  were  successful.  The 
dancing  became  less  frequent,  theatrical  performances 
found  less  encouragement,  the  circus  was  denied  ad- 
mittance, and  the  whole  appearance  of  the  town 
changed,  and  from  being  one  of  the  most  vicious,  it. 
has  become  one  of  the  most  moral  and  respectable 
places  in  the  State.  A  few  years  wrought  an  entire 
change.  Had  they  commenced  declaiming  against 
sinful  amusements  without  providing  innocent  ones, 
they  might  have  declaimed  until  the  day  of  doom. 

This  subject  is  an  important  one,  and  I  am  glad 
to  see  the  attention  of  the  public  turned  to  it.  Men 
of  thought,  and  men  of  action  are  looking  upon  it 
in  a  philosophical  light,  and  I  trust  the  day  ia 
not  far  distant  when  young  men  will  not  be  driven 


90  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

to  vicious  and  degrading  amusements  to  find  relaxa- 
tion. 
n.  THAT  THE  VARIOUS  AMUSEMENTS  WHICH  HAVE 

BEEN  DEVISED  FOR  THE  EXPRESS  PURPOSE  OF  GIV- 
ING RELAXATION  HAVE  THUS  FAR  ALL  FAILED. 

The  object  of  amusement  is  to  draw  off  the  mind  from 
more  serious  and  toilsome  things,  and  fit  it,  after  a 
temporary  relaxation,  to  return  to  the  duties  of  life 
•with  new  zeal  and  ability.  Anything  which  can  im- 
pair the  health,  weaken  the  intellect,  corrupt  the 
heart,  defeats  this  object.  Anything  which  brings 
weariness  and  exhaustion,  and  fatigue,  and  unfits 
man  to  perform  the  duties  of  life,  is  not  amusement, 
but  vice.  Hence,  as  we  look  at  dancing,  at  theatri- 
cal performances,  at  gambling,  and  at  the  various 
modes  of  sinful  pleasure,  we  find  that  instead  of  re- 
lieving the  mind  from  care,  and  fitting  the  body  for 
toil,  they  are  defeating  the  only  object  for  which  re- 
laxation can  be  sought,  they  are  only  adding  new 
cares,  new  toils,  new  sorrows.  Ask  Consumption  and 
she  will  tell  you  of  the  wasting  form  of  the  dancer, 
the  hollow  cough,  and  the  weary  limbs.  Go  into  the 
chamber  of  merriment,  and  you  will  see  men  and  wo- 
men dying  at  half  an  age.  Go  to  the  gambling-saloon, 
and  you  will  observe  the  blood-shot  eye,  the  haggard 
cheek,  the  trembling  lip.  Go  to  the  theatre,  and 
you  wili  find  the  victims  of  excitement,  their  minds 
warped,  and  their  ideas  of  life  all  discolored  and  dis- 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  91 

torted.  Look  at  any  of  the  schemes  of  pleasure 
•which  have  been  devised  to  while  away  tune,  to  oc- 
cupy the  hours  of  evening  without  benefit,  and  you 
will  find  they  have  failed  to  accomplish  their  pur- 
pose. They  give  no  relaxation.  Perhaps  at  first, 
dancing  and  theatres,  were  less  objectionable  than  at 
present,  perhaps  they  gave  pleasure  and  served  as 
recreation ;  but  they  have  become  so  corrupted,  so 
debasing,  that  I  see  not  how  a  virtuous  person  can 
engage  in  them.  The  object  of  their  establishment 
has  not  been  accomplished.  And  thus  it  will  con- 
tinue to  be  with  all  the  vast  variety  of  sinful  amuse- 
ments. However  harmless  and  simple  they  may  be 
at  the  beginning,  they  will  grow  worse  and  worse, 
and  instead  of  serving  as  pleasant,  healthy  recrea- 
tion, will  tend  to  vitiate,  corrupt,  and  impair. 

Man  was  made  for  usefulness.  He  was  designed  by 
God  to  get  good  and  do  good,  and  hence  any  amuse- 
ment to  subserve  well  its  purpose,  must  be  blended 
with  utility.  But  such  is  not  the  case  with  the  throng 
of  sinful  pleasures  by  which  we  are  encompassed. 
There  is  no  utility  about  them.  They  are  not  formed 
to  benefit,  but  to  amuse ;  not  to  instruct,  but  please. 
The  theatre  does  not  make  men  wiser,  better,  or 
happier,  The  ball-room  does  not  lighten  the  load  of 
life,  or  take  one  care  from  the  burdened  mind.  The 
gaming-table  does  not  make  life  lighter,  or  kindle  up 
hope  in  any  desolate  soul.  If  the  heart  is  sad  and 


92  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

bleeding,  if  the  mind  is  clouded  and  perplexed,  if  the 
conscience  is  in  trouble,  and  sorrow  is  brooding  over 
the  soul,  a  resort  to  any  of  these  pleasures  will  only 
add  new  bitterness  to  every  cup,  and  gather  a  denser 
darkness  around  the  sinner's  path.  Thus  men  will  find 
it,  sooner  or  later.  They  may  for  awhile  find  what 
they  call  amusement  in.  the  vain  and  sinful  inventions 
of  the  age  ;  they  may  silence  the  voice  of  conscience 
for  a  time,  and  in  the  busy  whirl  of  pleasure  and 
gayety,  pass  on  heedless  of  the  admonitions  which  are 
given  them,  but  the  end  will  come,  and  these  plea- 
sures will  prove  to  be  sources  of  vexation  and  sorrow. 

III.    SOME  AMUSEMENTS,   WHICH    ARE    HARMLESS, 
AND  WHICH  BLEND   UTILITY  WITH   PLEASURE.      That 

there  are  such  amusements,  you  are  all -ready  to  ad- 
mit, but  the  usual  objection  urged  against  them  is, 
that  they  are  tame  and  unsatisfying.  With  pervert- 
ed tastes,  the  followers  of  the  world  fail  to  perceive 
the  true,  substantial  pleasure  which  flows  from  use- 
ful amusements.  But  with  a  pure  and  uncorrupted 
taste,  witl\  a  heart  feelingly  alive  to  what  is  truly 
good,  useful  amusements  are  full  of  recreation  and 
enjoyment.  While  others  fail  to  give  the  desired  re- 
laxation, these  are  completely  successful ;  they  un- 
bend the  mind  awhile  from  life's  severer  duties,  and 
permit  it  to  return  to  those  duties  doubly  prepared  to 
perform  them.  A  few  of  them  I  will  briefly  enu- 
merate. 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  93 

1.  Useful  reading.  In  these  days  of  book-making, 
when  the  press  is  throwing  off  its  daily  and  hourly 
burden  of  valuable  and  worthless  volumes,  we  need 
be  at  no  loss  to  make  a  wise  and  judicious  selec- 
tion to  amuse,  instruct,  and  benefit.  Books  of  travel, 
of  history,  of  science,  of  philosophy,  of  morals,  of 
religion,  are  abundant,  and  within  the  reach  of  all 
young  people.  Whatever  may  be  our  peculiar  feel- 
ings and  inclinations  j  tastes  and  habits,  we  can  find 
some  kind  of  reading  which  will  benefit  us.  If 
we  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  the  past,  to 
know  how  men  have  lived,  and  where  they  were 
buried,  and  what  have  been  their  habits,  volumes  of 
history,  written  in  the  various  styles  of  authors  hav- 
ing different  national  and  mental  peculiarities,  and 
abounding  with  information  of  every  character,  are 
in  our  hands.  If  we  have  an  inclination  to  travel, 
and  possess  not  the  means  for  enjoying  this  privilege, 
we  may  find  the  most  delightful  accounts  of  voyages 
and  journeys,  and  at  our  own  firesides,  travel  the 
wide  world  over.  With  the  author  we  may  ascend 
the  highest  mountains,  and  descend  into  the  lowest 
caverns  ;  we  may  visit  temples,  cathedrals,  and  pago- 
das ;  we  may  journey  to  every  clime,  become  familiar 
•with  the  people  of  all  lands,  and  ere  we  have  traveled 
beyond  the  limits  of  our  own  native  town,  may  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  customs  and  manners  of  all  earth's 
tribes.  If  we  Avish  to  study  the  sciences,  and  learn 


94  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

the  discoveries  of  the  wisest  men,  we  have  their 
works,  their  minds  portrayed  on  paper,  spread  out 
before  our  gaze,  and  ready  for  our  use.  And  while 
we  have  these,  there  is  no  occasion  to  resort  to  fie 
tion,  tragedy,  and  dramatic  pleasures.  The  drama 
has  nothing  to  compare  for  interest,  with  the  realities 
of  science,  and  there  is  nothing  in  fiction  which  will 
equal  the  realities  of  history.  The  drama  is  tame, 
and  tasteless,  compared  with  the  history  of  the  past, 
and  there  are  scenes  every  year  transpiring  on  the 
great  theatre  of  the  world,  which  make  even  the  fic- 
tions of  the  most  glowing  writers  appear  insipid. 
Now  reading  is  a  recreation  which  combines  pleasure 
with  utility,  amusement  with  profit.  It  does  not  wea- 
ry the  body,  it  does  not  exhaust  the  mind,  it  does  not 
corrupt  the  heart.  It  brings  vigor  to  each,  and  gives 
relaxation  and  change,  and  fits  us  for  the  more  labo- 
rious and  irksome  duties  of  life.  An  hour  spent  in 
the  dancing-room  brings  weariness  and  sorrow ;  an 
hour  spent  over  a  useful  book,  brings  pleasure  and 
profit,  and  expands  and  enlarges  the  deathless  soul. 

2.  Music.  There  are  some  who  have  little  or  no 
desire  to  cultivate  musical  talents,  but  to  others,  this 
science  is  a  source  of  exquisite  enjoyment.  Indeed 
were  it  not  for  the  sweet  and  melting  strains  of  mu- 
sic, many  scenes  of  mirth  and  festivity  would  lose  all 
their  charm,  the  dancing-hall  and  the  theatre  would 
be  as  dull  and  senseless  as  the  gambols  of  a  child. 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  95 

Now  to  the  lover  of  harmony  there  is  no  source  of 
recreation  more  reasonable  and  delightful.  As  the 
laboring  man  returns  from  toil,  weary  and  dejected, 
the  sound  of  music,  and  the  song  of  his  wife  or  child 
will  cause  him  to  forget  his  weariness,  and  lose  his 
dejection.  The  simple  lay  will  be  a  balsam  for  his 
wounded  spirit,  and  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  the  heart 
will  be  glad.  Music  formed  one  of  the  prominent 
amusements  of  the  ancient  Hebrews.  They  sung 
everywhere,  and  mingled  melody  with  joy  or  sorrow. 
The  royal  David  with  his  chief  musicians,  Asaph, 
Heman,  and  Jeduthun,  with  their  four  thousand  assis- 
tants made  ceaseless  song,  and  Solomon,  his  son,  the 
wisest  man  of  his  age,  had  men-singers  and  women- 
singers,  and  Josephus  tells  us,  that  the  number  of  mu- 
sicians employed  by  him  at  the  dedication  of  the  tem- 
ple was  two  hundred  thousand.  The  Greeks  and  Ro- 
mans had  their  songs  and  their  instruments  of  music, 
and  frequently  when  they  went  out  to  battle,  it  was 
with  the  sound  of  melody.  Nor  shall  we  find  music 
under  proper  circumstances  to  be  wearisome  or  dis- 
sipating. It  will  give  the  mind  and  body  relaxation 
and  profit,  and  fail  to  impair  the  intellect  or  deprave 
the  heart. 

"  Music  the  fiercest  grief  can  charm, 
And  fate's  severest  rage  disarm. 
Music  can  change  pain  to  ease, 
And  make  despair  and  madness  please , 
Our  joys  below  it  can  improve, 
And  antedate  the  bliss  above." 


96  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

There  is  no  science  which  will  assist  hi  the  manage- 
ment of  children,  which  will  serve  to  soften  down  hu- 
man nature,  and  make  the  heart  feel,  to  such  an 
extent,  as  music.  Those  therefore  who  are  striving 
to  substitute  music  for  the  performances  of  the  stage, 
and  the  dissipation  of  the  festive  hall,  and  the  mid- 
night revel,  deserve  the  thanks  of  community ;  and 
musical  exhibitions,  concerts,  and  performances  should 
be  encouraged,  not  only  by  the  lovers  of  pleasure,  but 
also  by  the  lovers  of  morality  and  religion. 

3.  Traveling.  I  know  that  extensive  traveling  is 
not  within  the  reach  of  all,  and  yet  I  would  recom- 
mend it  to  all  who  have  the  pecuniary  ability.  If  a 
man  remains  at  home  all  his  days,  if  he  shuts  him- 
self up  within  the  limits  of  his  own  city,  and  never 
goes  forth  to  behold  the  world,  and  admire  the  works 
of  God,  his  soul  will  be  limited  and  contracted.  He 
will  fail  to  take  an  enlarged  view,  and  be  unable 
to  exert  ah  extensive  influence.  There  is  something 
in  an  acquaintance  with  the  world,  with  men  and 
things,  which  gives  the  soul  breadth  and  dimension, 
and  fits  it  to  take  an  ample  view  of  the  subjects 
which  are  presented.  I  am  aware  that  traveling  is 
costly ;  that  long  journeys  involve  much  expense. 
All  that  may  be  urged  on  this  point  will  be  admit- 
ted. But  do  I  not  address  some  young  men,  who 
in  every  five  years  spend  as  much  in  dancing,  in 
theatrical  entertainments,  and  In  other  dissipating 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  97 

amusements,  as  would  pay  the  expense  of  a  visit  to 
Europe,  or  a  voyage  to  any  part  of  the  world.  Do  I 
not  speak  to  some,  who  every  year  squander  enough 
to  defray  the  expense  of  a  journey  through  every 
State  in  the  Union.  To  those  who  have  the  ability, 
traveling  is  an  entertaining  and  profitable  method  of 
securing  relaxation. 

4.  Literary  lectures.  To  afford  this  kind  of  re- 
laxation, our  lyceums,  and  lecture  courses,  have 
been  established.  They  contribute  much  to  the  plea- 
sure and  profit  of  society.  They  draw  together  many 
who  would  otherwise  be  in  places  of  depraved  and 
sinful  pleasure.  These  lectures  are  generally  prepar- 
ed with  considerable  care,  and  contain  whole  volumes 
condensed.  They  frequently  present  subjects  which 
are  in  themselves  dry  and  uninteresting,  and  which  on 
the  printed  page  would  give  but  little  pleasure  to  the 
reader,  but  the  charm  of  the  living  speaker  is  thrown 
around  them,  and  knowledge  is  derived  which  would 
never  be  drawn  from  printed  volumes.  The  value 
of  these  lectures  is  too  little  known,  and  too  little  ap- 
preciated. Were  they  more  frequent,  and  better  at- 
tended, we  should  have  a  more  enlightened  commu- 
nity, and  a  more  virtuous  society.  Did  they  take 
the  place  of  other  degrading  and  disgusting  sources 
of  amusement,  we  should  not  so  often  behold  the 
wrecks  of  character,  and  the  ruin  of  unfortunate 
young  men.  We  should  not  so  often  behold  the 
7 


98  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

gray  hairs  of  parents  brought  in  sorrow  to  the  grave, 
or  hear  them  lament  so  frequently  the  downfall  of 
their  prodigal  sons. 

5.  Social  visiting.  Young  men  are  not  fond  of 
visiting.  They  deem  it  tedious  to  call  from  house  to 
house,  to  seek  an  acquaintance  with  society.  But  if 
they  would  employ  more  of  their  time  in  this  manner, 
they  would  find  it  a  source  of  pleasure  and  profit. 
They  would  thus  be  enabled  to  make  valuable  ac- 
quaintances, they  would  see  men  as  they  are,  and 
not  as  they  appear  in  public  life,  they  would  get  a 
deeper  insight  into  human  nature,  they  would  escape 
the  hollow  and  heartless  salutations  of  public  occa- 
sions, and  be  able  Jbetter  to  understand  "  life  at 
home."  I  am  aware  that  those  who  congregate  in 
large  cities  are  often  destitute  of  any  place  which 
they  dare  denominate  HOME.  But  others  who  are 
more  fortunately  situated,  have  a  duty  devolved  upon 
them  by  this  very  fact ;  a  duty,  too,  which  has  hard- 
ly begun  to  be  understood.  In  a  city  like  this,  the 
doors  of  every  house  should  be  open  to  our  young 
people  ;  they  should  be  invited  frequently  to  visit  our 
families,  not  as  strangers  or  dependents,  but  as  young 
men  who  have  no  homes  and  firesides  of  their  own. 
Let  them  know  that  your  parlors  and  your  sitting- 
rooms  are  always  ready  to  receive  them,  and  when 
they  come  give  them  a  cordial  welcome. 

7.  Social  gatherings.     These  are  somewhat  com- 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  99 

mon  in  the  form  of  "  sewing  societies,"  which  young 
people  of  both  sexes  attend.  They  are  connected 
with  the  various  religious  congregations,  and  are  on 
the  whole,  productive  of  good.  Though  all  social 
gatherings  will  have  some  objections  attending  them, 
yet  they  are,  at  least,  innocent  substitutes  for  worse 
amusements.  Every  such  society  should  have  some 
benevolent  object  in  view,  and  in  no  case  should  mere 
enjoyment  be  substituted  for  utility.  While  freedom 
should  be  given  to  all  the  social  feelings,  the  great 
fact  that  we  are  immortal  and  accountable,  should  be 
made  prominent.  There  are  other  social  gatherings 
on  various  occasions,  all  of  which  I  would  not  recom- 
mend. Many  of  them  are  turned  to  vicious  purposes, 
and  are  calculated  to  defeat  the  object  for  which 
we  seek  recreation.  There  are  others  in  which  we 
may  freely  engage,  in  which  we  may  take  a  part, 
and  by  so  doing  find  bodily  and  mental  relaxation. 
We  have  been  made  for  society,  formed  for  mutual 
fellowship,  and  if  we  find  it  not  in  these  harmless,  we 
shall  find  it  in  sinful  and  depraved  circles. 

"To  view, alone, 

The  fairest  scenes  of  land  and  deep, 
With  none  to  listen,  and  reply 
To  thoughts  with  which  my  heart  beat  high, 
Were  irksome ;  for  whate'er  our  mood, 
In  sooth,  we  love  not  solitude. 

8.  Paintings,  and  other  works  of  art.     To  most 
of  us,  the   paintings  of  the  great  masters  are  in- 


100  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

accessible.  Those  works  which  the  world  has  ad- 
mired are  out  of  our  reach ;  but  within  a  few  years 
paintings  and  statuary  of  less  merit  have  become 
abundant.  The  late  works  are  well-adapted  to  the 
common  mind,  and  though  in  many  cases  destitute  of 
artistic  skill,  are  really  valuable  in  giving  us  an  idea 
of  the  scenery  of  various  countries  which  we  have 
never  visited.  These  exhibitions  form  a  pleasant  and 
profitable  mode  of  securing  recreation,  and  deserve 
the  patronage  of  all  young  people.  The  artists  in  al- 
most all  cases  are  young  men,  and  deserve  the  sup- 
port of  community  for  the  services  which  they  have 
rendered.  We  have  the  "  Voyage  to  Europe,"  the 
"  Scenery  of  the  Rhine  ;"  the  "  Views  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  Ohio ;"  the  "  Scenery  and  Battles  of  Mexi- 
co ;"  the  "  Model  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Jerusa- 
lem ;"  the  "  Moving  Statuary  of  the  Scriptures," 
and  a  multitude  of  others  which  are  all  deserving  of 
notice. 

I  might  mention  many  other  sources  of  innocent 
pleasure,  which  are  combined  with  utility,  but  these 
will  suffice.  We  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  with  op- 
portunities to  enjoy  ourselves  without  becoming  the 
patrons  of  vice,  and  if  we  will,  we  may  secure  them. 
There  is  one  source  of  pleasure  and  relaxation  from 
toil,  which  I  ought  not  to  omit  in  this  enumera- 
tion, a  source  of  pleasure  and  bliss  which  exceeds 
all  others,  and  is  more  rational  and  Godlike,  an 


INNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  101 

avocation  in  "which  angels  are  ceaselessly  employed. 
I  refer  to 

9.  Religion ;  the  public  and  private  worship  of 
God.  I  know  that  to  many,  the  duties  of  religion 
would  be  an  intolerable  hardship.  I  am  aware  that 
they  would  find  no  pleasure  in  the  closet,  or  in  the 
praying  circle,  while  their  hearts  remain  unchanged, 
but  to  others  the  place  of  prayer  is,  of  all  spots  on 
earth,  the  best  to  find  calm  and  holy  satisfaction,  to 
obtain  relief  from  sorrow  and  sin,  to  unbend  the  mind 
from  the  world's  perplexities,  and  centre  it  on  true 
and  pure  objects,  and  if  you  will  secure  that  state 
of  mind  which  will  fit  you  for  communion  with  God, 
you  will  find  in  it  a  more  substantial  pleasure,  than 
this  poor  wretched  world  affords.  It  will  sweeten 
every  cup  which  Divine  providence  puts  to  mortal 
lips,  and  dispel  the  darkest  shadow  which  ever 
gathers  over  the  sinner's  path. 

"  Religion  is  a  glorious  treasure, 

The  purchase  of  a  Saviour's  love ; 
It  fills  the  mind  with  consolation, 
And  lifts  the  soul  to  things  above." 

Here  I  will  leave  the  subject,  asking  you  to  give  it 
that  attention  which  its  importance  demands.  As 
you  go  out  from  this  house  you  will  find  some  sinful 
amusement  presenting  its  claim  on  every  side.  As 
the  week  rolls  away,  and  you  feel  the  need  of  recrea- 
tion and  change,  a  score  of  objects  will  present  them- 


y-. 

102  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

selves,  and  hold  out  their  tempting  offers.  On  every 
hand  you  will  be  beset  with  vices  and  seductions.  At 
such  times  remember  the  claims  of  God  and  reason. 
Let  the  fact  that  you  are  immortal  and  accountable, 
that  you  are  not  to  perish  in  the  grave,  but  are  to 
live  on  after  the  destruction  of  matter,  and  the  world's 
great  wreck,  and  think  and  act  in  the  vast  future, 
admonish  you.  Contemplate  yourself  as  a  young 
man,  created  by  God  for  a  noble  purpose,  placed  in 
this  world  as  a  probationer  for  the  next,  to  live  with 
angels  or  with  demons  forever.  When  sin  presents 
its  claims,  when  your  associates  urge  you  into  paths 
of  vice  and  folly,  and  all  around  are  conspiring  to 
shut  out  the  voice  of  God,  and  induce  thee  to  destroy 
and  wrong  thy  nobler  nature,  do  it  not.  Thou  art 
immortal,  accountable.  Let  this  thought  drive  thee 
back  from  every  path  of  sin.  God  is  thy  sire,  thou 
art  his  child  !  Let  this  send  thee  to  his  arms.  Re- 
member, that 

"  The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  Sun  himself 
Grows  dim  with  age,  and  Nature  sinks  in  years  : 
But  thou  shall  nourish  in  immortal  youth, 
Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 
The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of  worlds." 

It  is  right  that  man  should  be  happy ;  it  is  proper 
for  him  to  seek  amusement  and  enjoyment.  There  is 
nothing  in  nature,  nothing  in  religion  which  forbids 
the  full  and  free  enjoyment  in  a  reasonable  manner, 


DTNOCENT  AMUSEMENTS.  103 

and  to  a  reasonable  extent,  of  all  the  faculties  which 
God  has  given  us  ;  but  while  enjoying,  we  have  no 
right  to  debase ;  when  seeking  pleasure,  we  have  no 
excuse  for  plucking  the  poison-flowers  of  sin.  All 
within  us,  and  around  us,  utters  impressively,  "  the 
way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard."  While  the  way  of 
life  is  full  of  precious  tokens  of  Divine  approval,  the 
curse  of  the  Almighty,  hangs  over  the  way  of  death, 
and  though  pleasure  may  be  found  for  a  season,  and 
the  heart  beat  gaily  in  its  own  fancied,  but  false  se- 
curity, the  end  will  be  as  dreadful,  as  the  beginning 
was  fair  and  deceitful.  Every  tree  in  Satan's  gar- 
den, hangs  laden  with  poisoned  fruit,  and  wo  to  him 
who  plucks  and  eats. 


LECTURE   V. 

DANGEROUS    AMUSEMENTS. 

DO   THYSELF  NO  HARM.  —  Acts  16:  28. 

THIS  passage  of  Scripture  is  a  part  of  one  of  the 
most  interesting  narratives  which  can  be  found  in  any 
of  the  sacred  -writings.  It  was  uttered  while  Paul 
was  at  Philippi,  a  city  of  Macedonia.  On  account  of 
his  religious  opinions  and  teachings  he  had  been  incar- 
cerated in  a  dungeon,  and  in  company  with  Silas  had 
been  thrust  into  the  inner-prison.  With  his  free  spirit, 
unbroken  by  the  affliction,  he  praised  God  at  mid- 
night, the  whole  prison  resounded  with  the  melody  of  a 
song  which  had  never  been  heard  there  before.  The 
prisoners  in  their  cells  heard  the  sweet  music.  Start- 
ing from  their  slumbers,  they  asked  in  astonishment, 
"  What  is  this  ?"  and  listened  with  wrapt  attention  to 
the  heavenly  sound  as  it  echoed  on  the  air  of  night, 
and  floated  in  gentle  strains  through  their  dark  and 
gloomy  dungeons.  While  they  thus  sang  an  earth- 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         105 

quake  shook  the  prison,  the  fetters  fell  from  their 
chafed  limbs,  and  they  rose  up,  leaving  their  manacles 
behind  them.  Aroused  by  the  noise  and  confusion 
of  the  scene,  the  jailor  arose  in  terror,  and  saw  the 
doors  of  his  prison  open,  and  the  fetters  struck  from 
the  limbs  of  the  prisoners,  whom  he  had  been  charged 
to  keep  in  safety.  Supposing  that  some  had  fled,  he 
was  alarmed,  and  in  fear  lest  he  should  be  punished, 
drew  his  sword  and  would  have  killed  himself.  See- 
ing his  desperate  intention,  Paul  cried  out  to  him, 
"Do  thyself  no  harm,"  and  by  a  declaration  that 
none  had  escaped,  calmed  his  fears,  and  induced  him 
to  put  his  sword  again  into  its  sheath. 

Like  the  Philippian  jailor,  men  are  now  doing  them- 
selves (in  many  instances)  inconceivable  harm.  They 
are  their  own  worst  enemies,  and  are  frequently  the 
cause  of  their  own  destruction.  Thus  is  it  with  those 
who  are  living  in  the  practice  of  the  sinful  amuse- 
ments of  life,  and  who  are  bent  on  the  gratification  of 
their  carnal  desires  at  the  expense  of  better  and  ho- 
lier things.  Like  a  madman  they  are  drawing  the 
sword  upon  themselves,  and  doing  to  their  own  souls 
irreparable  injury. 

Upon  the  subject  of  DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS,  I 
wish  this  evening  to  offer  a  few  friendly  remarks,  and 
by  presenting  them  to  you  as  they  appear  to  my  own 
mind,  induce  you  to  avoid  them  as  destructive  to  the 
welfare  of  this  life,  and  the  life  to  come.  In  the 


106  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

brief  space  allowed  for  a  single  lecture,  I  can 
only  glance  at  a  few  of  the  most  prominent  sources 
of  sinful  pleasure,  and  by  the  survey  of  them,  lead 
you  to  an  abhorrence  of  the  whole.  I  will  call  your 
attention  then, 

TO   THE   DANGEROUS   AMUSEMENTS    OF   OUR  TIMES. 

Their  number  is  legion.  They  are  adapted  to  high 
life,  and  low  life,  to  youth  and  age,  to  every  con- 
dition and  rank  of  human  beings.  They  do  not  exist 
alone  in  crowded  cities,  and  marts  of  commerce,  but 
make  every  spot  inhabited  by  man,  the  scene  of  their 
operations.  Created  by  God  upright,  surrounded 
with  pure  and  profitable  pleasures,  man  has  forsaken 
them,  and  sought  out  many  inventions.  He  has  left 
the  pure  spring  of  living  water,  the  fountain  which 
gushes  from  the  hand  of  God,  and  hewn  out  to  him- 
self broken  cisterns  which  can  hold  no  water.  Fitted 
for  the  skies,  made  by  the  Creator  to  look  upward, 
and  destined  for  immortality,  man  has  withdrawn  his 
gaze  from  Deity,  and  fixed  it  on  the  earth.  Dying 
although  he  be,  he  courts  disease.  Death  lurks  in 
his  path,  clad  in  the  livery  of  heaven,  and  he  stoops  to 
embrace  the  monster,-  and  dies.  Nothing  that  he 
meets  in  all  his  progress  through  life  is  more  decep- 
tive and  false,  than  are  the  sinful  pleasures  by  which 
Satan  wishes  to  ensure  his  destruction.  The  arch- 
fiend, who  knows  well  with  what  material  he  has  to 
deal,  has  displayed'  his  infernal  wisdom  in  the  devices 


DANGEKOUS  AMUSEMENTS.  107 

by  which  every  step  of  youth  is  beset.  The  various 
amusements  of  society  have  been  the  ruin  of  thou- 
sands, who  but  for  them,  might  have  been  upright  and 
respectable.  All  along  the  tide  of  time,  are  wrecks 
of  characters  which  have  been  destroyed  by  the  gild- 
ed fascinations  of  pleasure.  And  thousands  more 
will  be  destroyed  ere  men  will  open  their  eyes  upon 
the  fearful  scenes  around  them,  and  arise  hi  all  the 
strength  of  human  nature,  to  roll  back  the  waves  of 
sorrow.  And  until  this  time  arrives,  these  monu- 
ments of  wrath  will  stand ;  like  sunken  rocks  at  times 
concealed  from  view,  they  will  involve  new  victims  in 
the  snare,  and  prove  the  fatal  spots  where  souls  are 
wrecked. 

I.  The  theatre.  So  much  has  been  said  of  late 
upon  this  source  of  depraved  pleasure,  that  I  need 
not  dwell  much  upon  it.  All  good  men  have  united 
in  its  condemnation,  and  all  bad  men  have  joined  in 
its  support. 

"  From  first  to  last  it  was  an  evil  place, 
And  now  such  scenes  are  acted  there,  as  made 
The  devils  blush ;  and  from  the  neighborhood, 
Angels  and  holy  men,  trembling  retired." 

I  do  not  say  that  the  theatre  cannot  be  made  a 
source  of  innocent  amusement ;  I  do  not  affirm  that 
the  drama  cannot  be  made  a  source  of  reasonable  en- 
joyment ;  but  I  do  affirm  that  it  is  not.  Facts  which 
cannot  be  controverted  prove  that  it  has  been,  and  is 


108  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

now,  a  source  of  moral  corruption.  In  every  city  of 
our  great  country  the  theatre  has  been  an  aceldama, 
and  many  a  father  has  turned  his  weeping  eyes  to- 
wards it,  as  the  spot  where  his  child  was  decoyed  into 
an,  and  ruined  forever.  Says  Rev.  Mr.  East,  "  I 
called  to  see  a  mother ;  she  was  in  distress.  She 
not  merely  wept,  but  wept  aloud.  '  0  my  child ! ' 
and  she  wept  again.  '  0  my  child  is  just  commit- 
ted to  prison,  and  I  fear  he  will  never  return  to  his 
father's  house,'  and  then  her  tears  burst  forth,  and 
with  all  my  firmness  I  could  not  help  weeping  with 
her.  I  was  afraid  to  ask  the  cause ;  I  did  not  need, 
for  she  said,  '  0  that  THEATRE  !  He  was  a  virtuous, 
kind  youth,  till  that  theatre  proved  Ms  ruin!" 
Nor  is  this  a  solitary  case.  There  are  mothers 
throughout  New  England  who  are  shedding  like 
tears,  over  like  sorrow.  It  is  the  opinion  of  one  of 
the  best,  most  talented,  clergymen  of  our  country ; 
a  man  of  age,  observation,  and  long  experience,  that 
more  characters  are  ruined  by  the  theatre,  than  by 
any  other  device  of  Satan.  He  says,  "  I  have  watch- 
ed the  progress  of  young  men,  as  they  have  become 
the  habitual  attendants  upon  the  amusements  of  the 
stage,  and  never  have  I  known  one  to  maintain  his 
integrity  any  length  of  time."  The  whole  history 
of  theatrical  performances,  prove  that  there  is  about 
them  a  corrupting  influence,  a  demoralizing  tendency. 
Exciting  and  fascinating,  they  secure  a  large  attend- 


DANGEKOUS  AMUSEMENTS.         109 

ance,  and  exert  a  wide  influence.  The  young  are 
dazzled  and  charmed  by  the  display,  and  ere  they 
are  aware,  have  ventured  too  far  out  upon  the  sea 
of  indulgence  to  return.  Not  many  months  ago,  I 
visited,  at  the  request  of  a  broken-hearted  mother,  a 
young  man  who  was  confined  in  prison.  As  I  enter- 
ed the  cell  and  introduced  myself  to  him,  I  saw  shame 
spread  over  his  face,  and  the  blush  overcast  a  counte- 
nance from  which  vice  had  not  as  yet  removed  all 
trace  of  beauty.  Seating  myself  by  his  side,  I  com- 
menced a  kind  and  cheerful  conversation  with  him. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  been  in  that  place  seven 
months,  and  had  several  more  to  remain.  His  heart 
was  bowed  with  sorrow  as  he  remarked,  "  that  during 
those  seven  months,  he  had  heard  kind  words  from 
only  one  person  —  Ms  mother."  He  described  to  me 
the  course  of  crime  which  had  made  him  an  outcast 
from  society.  At  the  age  of  twenty-two  he  had  a 
character  as  fair  as  ours.  His  employment  was  pro- 
fitable, and"  he  was  doing  well.  But  he  was  induced 
to  attend  the  theatre.  What  he  saw  there  pleased 
him.  He  went  again  and  again.  Soon  his  income 
would  not  support  his  extravagance,  The  nightly 
visit  to  the  play-house  must  be  abandoned,  or  he  must 
have  more  money.  He  endeavored  to  secure  a  more 
lucrative  business,  but  failed.  He  took  upon  himself 
new  duties,  but  the  increase  of  his  income  was  not 
proportionate  to  the  increase  of  his  expenses.  The 


110  THE  TOU1TG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

gaming-table  presented  itself,  and  lie  became  a  gam- 
bler. From  one  step  to  another  he  advanced  in 
crime.  As  his  heart  grew  harder,  he  became  bolder 
in  sin,  and  at  length  committed  the  crime  for  which 
he  was  imprisoned.  "  0,"  said  he  to  me,  with  a  tone 
which  I  never  shall  forget,  "had  I  known  that  I 
should  have  come  to  this,  I  would  have  as  soon  jump- 
ed into  the  fires  of  hell,  as  gone  to  the  theatre." 
When  I  spoke  of  reformation,  he  shook  his  head,  and 
sighed.  "  This  country  is  no  home  for  a  detected 
thief,"  he  said.  Upon  looking  around  his  room,  I 
found  two  books ;  a  Bible  which  his  mother  had  given 
him,  and  which  had  no  appearance  of  having  been 
read,  and  the  "Wandering  Jew,"  an  obscene,  dis- 
gusting novel.  He  was  a  melancholy  spectacle  of 
what  the  theatre  can  do,  and  is  doing,  to  transform 
the  fair  characters  of  our  young  people,  and  change 
them  from  upright  members  of  society  to  degraded, 
detected  outcasts.  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  in  his 
strong,  truthful  language  says,  speaking  of  the  thea- 
tre, "  Here  are  brilliant  bars  to  teach  the  young  to 
drink ;  here  are  gay  companions  to  undo  in  half  an 
hour,  the  scruples  formed  by  an  education  of  years  ; 
here  are  pimps  of  pleasure  to  delude  the  brain  with 
bewildering  sophisms  of  li cense  ;  here  is  pleasure,  all 
flushed  in  its  gayest,  boldest,  most  fascinating  forms  ; 
and  few  there  be  who  can  resist  its  wiles  ;  and  fewer 
yet,  who  can  yield  to  them,  and  escape  ruin.  If  you 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         Ill 

would  pervert  the  taste,  go  to  the  theatre.  If  you 
would  imbibe  false  views,  go  to  the  theatre.  If  you 
would  efface  as  speedily  as  possible  all  qualms  of 
conscience,  go  to  the  theatre.  If  you  would  put 
yourself  irreconcilably  against  the  spirit  of  virtue 
and  religion,  go  to  the  theatre.  If  you  would  be  in- 
fected with  each  particular  vice  in  the  catalogue  of 
depravity,  go  to  the  theatre.  Let  parents,  who  wish 
to  make  their  children  weary  of  home  and  quiet  do- 
mestic enjoyments,  take  them  to  the  theatre.  If  it  be 
desirable  for  the  young  to  loathe  industry  and  didac- 
tic reading,  and  burn  for  fiery  excitements,  and  seek 
them  by  stealth,  or  through  pilferings  if  need  be,  then 
send  them  to  the  theatre." 

2.  Dancing.  I  am  well  aware,  that  there  are 
different  grades  of  vice  and  depravity  connected  with 
this  amusement.  There  are  the  occasional  balls  and 
parties,  and  the  regular  weekly,  or  nightly  revel. 
While  of  the  former  we  cannot  speak  in  commenda- 
tion, of  the  latter  we  can  speak  only  in  terms  of  en- 
tire disapproval.  As  they  are  conducted  they  are 
sinks  of  depravity,  one  of  which  is  sufficient  to  curse 
a  nation.  I  am  yet  to  find  that  there  is  anything 
good  about  them.  Contrived  for  the  gratification  of 
the  basest  passions  of  the  basest  classes  in  society, 
they  become  the  source  of  a  vast  amount  of  profligacy 
and  debauchery.  They  neither  tend  to  give  relaxa- 
tion to  the  exhausted  body,  nor  the  care-worn  mind  ; 


112  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

they  do  not  implant  in  the  soul  one  single  virtuous 
sentiment ;  they  do  not  strengthen  in  any  mind  the 
virtuous  teachings  of  home,  but  everywhere  are  found 
to  be  prolific  causes  of  corruption  and  death.  Could 
all  those  who  are  ruined  every  year  in  large  cities,  by 
this  vicious  amusement,  be  brought  together,  what  a 
spectacle  would  be  presented.  Men  who  are  now  apolo- 
gizing for  the  vice,  would  stand  aghast ;  parents  who 
are  sending  their  children  to  these  sinks  of  corruption 
would  as  soon  send  them  into  a  nest  of  vipers  ;  young 
men  who  are  bartering  their  souls  away  for  the  miser- 
able mirth,  would  fly  from  it,  as  from  the  door  of  hell. 
The  broken-down  tradesman,  the  ruined  mechanic, 
the  once  studious  lawyer,  would  appear  before  us, 
limping  from  the  midnight  carousal,  to  bear  witness  to 
the  damning  influence  of  this  school  of  infamy.  Once 
respected,  once  prosperous  in  life,  once  beating  with 
high  hopes ;  now  tossed  by  passion,  and  driven  by 
the  storms  of  vice.  Females  would  come,  daughters 
and  sisters,  who  awhile  since,  suspicion  dare  not  touch, 
and  on  whose  cheek  the  blush  of  shame  had  never 
been  seen,  now  wearing  vice  like  a  garment,  every 
feature  distorted,  every  sign  of  innocence  blotted 
out,  every  trace  of  virtue  gone.  This  is  no  tale  of 
fancy.  You  have  only  to  look  around  you  to  have  it 
painfully  confirmed.  I  knew  a  family  awhile  since 
who  were  living  in  the  enjoyment  of  many  of  life's 
blessings.  The  husband  and  the  wife  were  young, 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS. 

and  when  I  saw  them  first,  a  lovely  child  was  twining 
its  arms  around  the  mother's  form.  A  year  rolled 
away,  and  there  was  a  change.  God  in  his  awful 
providence  had  removed  the  child,  and  left  the  pa- 
rents in  sorrow.  Home  now  seemed  dreary,  and  in- 
stead of  seeking  solace  in  the  Saviour,  they  fled  to 
the  dance  and  the  revel.  Soon  the  woe  commenced. 
The  mother  threw  aside  her  mourning  for  the  gay 
attire  of  the  ball-room,  and  each  of  them  began  to 
drink  the  bitter  waters  of  vice.  Affection  for  each 
other  fled ;  strife  took  the  place  of  contentment  and 
quiet ;  a  separation  ensued ;  the  husband  fled,  and 
the  wife,  young,  interesting  and  intelligent,  has  en- 
tered upon  a  course  of  crime  which  will  end  in  com- 
plete ruin.  A  happy  family  has  been  destroyed,  the 
hearts  of  friends  have  been  distressed,  and  the  vows 
of  marriage  recklessly  trampled  under  foot. 

3.  Gambling.  This  sort  of  amusement  is  gene- 
rally regarded  as  a  crime.  Those  who  uphold  the 
theatre  and  the  dance,  make  no  plea  for  this.  The 
law  looks  upon  it  as  a  doubtful  employment,  and  none 
but  those  engaged  in  it,  are  willing  to  be  its  de- 
fenders. And  yet  there  are  few  sources  of  corrup- 
tion more  fascinating  and  deceptive.  All  men  want 
money,  and  when  the  prospect  of  securing  a  large 
sum  in  a  single  night,  is  held  up  before  us,  the  eyes 
are  dazzled  and  blinded.  Compared  with  a  game  of 
chance,  the  slow  process  of  making  a  fortune  over  an 
8 


114  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

anvil  or  plough,  appears  to  the  young  exceedingly 
difficult,  and  they  are  often  led  to  the  gaming-table, 
in  order  to  become  rich  sooner.  Then  there  is 
something  in  gaming,  when  considered  as  an  amuse- 
ment merely,  which  is  well-calculated  to  captivate. 
The  uncertainty,  the  excitement,  the  all-absorbing 
interest,  lead  the  mind  astray,  and  he  who  becomes 
addicted  to  the  vice,  and  learns  to  love,  it,  will  find 
himself  bound  in  chains  stronger  than  iron.  Within 
the  last  few  years  gaming  has  become  exceedingly 
prevalent ;  children  are  gambling  in  the  streets,  their 
sires  are  gambling  in  low  cellars,  while  our  fashionable 
young  men  are  pursuing  the  same  employment  in  gay 
and  gilded  saloons.  In  almost  every  street  your  ears 
are  saluted  by  the  sound  of  the  rolling  ball,  and  the 
clattering  dice,  and  the  melancholy  evidence  of  the 
prevalence  of  this  vice  is  on  every  side.  And  the  re- 
sult will  be  a  community  of  dishonest  men ;  a  vicious, 
depraved  society. 

The  idea  that  a  man  can  be  honest  while  he  is 
a  confirmed  gambler,  is  absurd.  Gambling  saps 
the  principle  of  honesty,  and  makes  a  man  a  vil- 
lain in  a  night.  The  record  of  this  vice  is  full 
of  cases  which  are  fearfully  illustrative  of  the  truth 
of  this  position.  In  a  short  time  a  man  will  learn 
to  cheat  his  victim  without  mercy.  He  will  lead 
him  to  the  bar,  and  induce  him  to  drink,  and  when 
his  brain  is  on  fire  will  lead  him  back  to  the  board, 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         115 

and  rob  him  of  his  all.  He  may  know  that  he 
has  a  starving  wife  and  child  at  home,  but  he  cares 
not  for  that.  He  may  know  that  the  safety  of  the 
man's  reason,  and  life,  and  SOUL,  may  depend  on  the 
game,  but  he  cares  not.  He  will  cheat  him,  even 
if  he  knows  his  wife  and  child  will  starve,  or  die 
broken-hearted ;  he  will  play  and  rifle  his  pockets, 
though  he  may  believe  all  the  while,  that  the  poor 
wretch  will  be  driven  to  madness,  to  suicide,  to  hell. 
The  tender  mercy  of  the  confirmed  gambler  is  cruel. 
Gold  is  his  god,  and  to  secure  it,  he  would  barter 
away  the  souls  of  his  own  children.  I  know  of  no 
vice  which  so  effectively  hardens  the  heart,  destroys 
all  tender  feeling,  and  deadens  the  soul  to  things 
which  are  excellent,  as  does  gambling.  The  theatre 
and  the  dance,  destructive  as  they  are,  are  not  to  be 
compared  with  it  in  this  respect.  Dr.  Nott  says, 
"  The  finished  gambler  has  no  heart ;  he  would  play 
at  his  brother's  funeral,  he  would  gamble  upon  his 
mother's  coffin."  A  fact  is  related  on  good  authori- 
ty,* of  gamblers  who  wished  to  show  their  utter 
contempt  for  all  sacred  things,  and  their  entire  disre- 
gard of  all  that  men  deem  sacred  and  divine.  After 
various  deeds  of  folly  and  madness,  which  exhibited 
their  recklessness,  they  entered  at  night  the  charnel- 
house  of  a  cathedral,  and  took  from  its  resting-place 
a  corpse  which  had  been  buried  the  same  day.  Up 

*  Rev.  W.  B.  Tappan. 


116  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

through  the  narrow  passage,  thej  bore  the  person  of 
the  dead,  uttering  low  jokes  and  blasphemous  expres- 
sions. With  their  clay-cold  load  they  arrived  in  the 
cathedral,  passed  within  the  chancel,  lighted  up  one 
of  the  candles  of  the  altar,  and  then  placing  the 
corpse  in  a  chair  by  the  communion-table,  gathered 
around  it  and  engaged  in  a  game  of  chance. 

4.  Social  drinking.  Intemperance  is  insidious.  It 
does  not  come  at  once  with  its  burning  streams  to 
consume  the  heart  of  its  victim,  but  slowly  and 
gradually  drags  itself  along,  taking  one  fortress  af- 
ter another,  until  the  fashionable,  genteel,  moderate 
drinker  has  become  the  reeling,  bloated,  degraded 
drunkard.  There  is  something  in  the  idea  of  taking 
a  social  glass  with  a  friend,  or  drinking  a  cup  of 
sparkling  wine  on  some  public  occasion,  exceedingly 
pleasant.  The  young  fail  to  perceive  the  danger  of 
the  practice.  They  cannot  see  how  it  is,  that  a 
man  is  led  on  from  moderation  to  brutal  excess,  and 
hence  use  the  wine-cup  freely,  and  without  fear  of  any 
evil  consequences.  The  idea  that  he  shall  become  a 
drunkard,  does  not  enter  into  the  mind  of  the  young 
man  when  he  sips  the  poison.  And  thus  it  has  ever 
been  with  those  who  have  become  intemperate.  Not 
one  of  all  the  thousands  who  have  gone  down  to  a 
drunkard's  grave,  and  have  entered  upon  the  scenes 
of  a  drunkard's  eternity,  ever  supposed  that  he  should 
be  a  beastly,  degraded  inebriate.  Such  an  end  never 


DANGEROUS   AMUSEMENTS.  117 

presented  itself  to  the  mind  of  any  young  man,  as  for 
the  first  time  he  drank  his  social  glass.  But  step  by 
step,  the  habit  grew  upon  him ;  day  by  day  the  fatal 
spell  was  thrown  around  him ;  deeper  and  deeper  he 
descended  into  the  vortex  of  wretchedness,  until  the 
last  lamp  which  shed  its  light  upon  his  path  was  put 
out,  the  last  star  of  hope  sank  in  darkness. 

I  am  perhaps  addressing  those  who  occasionally 
make  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and  who  on  social  oc- 
casions deem  it  well  to  take  the  cup  of  wine  without 
hesitation.  You  do  not  perceive  any  signs  of  danger, 
and  should  one  remonstrate  with  you  personally,  you 
would  consider  it  an  insult.  "  Can  I  not  govern  my- 
self ?"  you  would  ask  with  outraged  feelings.  "  Can 
I  not  drink  when  I  please,  and  let  it  alone  when  I 
please  ?"  "  Have  I  no  power  over  my  appetite  and 
passions  ?"  The  same  questions  others  have  asked, 
and  yet  been  hurried  into  the  whirlpool  of  dr  unkenness. 
Others,  when  remonstrated  with,  have  been  as  indig- 
nant as  yourself,  but  have  ultimately  found  that  the 
cup  was  poison,  that  death  lurked  beneath  its  brim, 
that  the  deathless  worm  was  coiled  up  there,  that  it 
burned  the  soul  with  deathless  flame.  I  have  read 
somewhere  of  a  man  who  kept  a  tiger  hi  his  house. 
He  had  secured  the  animal  when  it  was  quite  young, 
and  by  kindness  and  gentleness  had  apparently  sub- 
dued its  ferocious  and  bloodthirsty  disposition.  So 
attached  to  his  pet  did  he  become,  that  he  took  the 


118  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

creature  to  bed  with  him  at  night,  and  let  it  folloTf 
him  in  his  travels.  Friends  remonstrated,  and  urged 
the  nature  of  the  animal,  and  predicted  danger.  The 
foolish  man  laughed  at  their  fears,  and  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  danger.  At  length  he  -went  to  sleep  at  night 
as  usual  with  the  beast  by  his  side.  Turning  in  his 
bed  he  drew  his  hand  across  one  of  the  paws  of  his 
favorite.  The  wound  streamed  with  blood.  The 
tiger  tasted  it.  His  ferocious  nature  which  had  been 
curbed  for  years  was  aroused,  and  when  the  morning 
came,  all  that  remained  of  his  master  was  a  bleeding, 
mangled  corpse.  The  man  who  sports  with  intempe- 
rance in  any  form,  who  drinks  moderately  or  im- 
moderately is  tampering  with  the  tiger.  He  will 
i-ealize  the  truth  of  Scripture,  "  at  last  it  biteth  like 
a  serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder." 

5.  There  are  other  sources  of  sinful  and  dangerous 
amusement  which  I  need  not  mention.  If  you  turn 
your  gaze  over  the  surface  of  society,  you  will  find 
abundant  evidence  upon  this  subject.  Everywhere 
will  meet  your  eye  the  crowds  of  men  and  women 
seeking  pleasure  in  paths  that  lead  to  death,  and 
on  every  hand  will  appear  the  wrecks  of  character 
which  strew  the  tide  of  time.  A  few  objections  to 
all  sinful  pleasures,  will  close  this  discourse. 

1.  TJiey  abuse  time.  Time  was  given  us  for  a 
high  purpose.  It  was  designed  as  a  season  of  proba- 
tion. In  it,  man  is  to  fit  himself  for  eternity,  and 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         119 

prepare  his  soul  for  a  crown  in  heaven.  He  has  no 
right  to  squander  it  in  any  of  the  vain  employ- 
ments which  I  have  this  evening  enumerated.  We 
are  accountable  to  God,  and  of  nothing  will  he  require 
a  more  strict  account  than  of  our  time.  If  that  is 
wasted  and  abused,  his  most  severe  judgments  will 
fall  upon  the  guilty  head.  And  what  waste  of  time 
can  be  more  shameful  than  that  of  the  dancer,  or  the 
stage-player  ?  It  is  a  sad  and  fearful  sight  to  behold 
a  being  created  for  immortality,  having  a  deathless 
soul,  and  soon  to  stand  before  God,  leaving  the  purpose 
for  which  his  Maker  has  designed  him,  and  spending 
the  time  which  will  soon  run  out,  in  capering  around 
a  violin  until  midnight,  or  watching  the  grimaces  of 
some  ridiculously  dressed  actor,  as  he  attempts  to 
mimic  the  poor  forlorn  objects  of  human  woe.  If 
there  is  one  scene  on  earth,  which  is  empty,  vain,  and 
trifling,  it  is  that  which  the  dancing-hall  exhibits. 
The  gambler  hopes  to  gain  gold,  but  dancers  can  hope 
for  nothing  but  exhaustion,  weariness,  and  disease. 
Dressed  in  gilt  and  tinsel,  looking  more  like  some 
specimens  of  the  brute  creation  than  human  beings, 
they  whirl  and  tumble  about  like  idiots,  or  shakers. 
One  grand  jumble  will  not  satisfy  them,  but  hour  after 
hour  must  be  spent  in  the  unhealthy,  unreasonable, 
unmeaning  service.  And  how  will  such  give  an  ac- 
count of  their  time  to  God  ?  Has  he  given  them  the 
precious  boon  of  life  for  such  a  purpose  ?  Has  he 


120  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

made  man  immortal  that  lie  might  spend  thus,  his 
existence  upon  the  earth  ?  Not  at  all !  God  had 
no  such  design  in  view,  and  he  must  look  down  upon 
these  sources  of  depraved  pleasure  with  infinite  ab- 
horrence. If  the  waste  of  time  was  the  only  objec- 
tion which  could  be  urged  against  them,  it  would  be 
enough.  It  would  be  sufficient  to  brand  them  with 
divine  and  human  disapprobation.  It  would  be 
enough  to  induce  every  son  and  daughter  of  Adam 
to  abjure  them  as  destructive  to  the  best  interests 
of  the  human  family. 

2.  They  are  destructive  to  health.  This  you  all 
know.  The  man  must  be  insane  who  denies  that 
drinking  and  dancing  are  calculated  to  sap  the  ener- 
gies of  the  system  and  destroy  life.  Were  half  the 
vigorous  constitutions  destroyed  by  an  attendance 
upon  the  house  of  God,  that  are  ruined  by  the  amuse- 
ments which  are  spread  around  us  in  such  profusion, 
the  voice  of  the  whole  community  would  demand  that 
houses  of  public  worship  should  be  abolished.  Many 
individuals  are  horror  struck,  if  a  protracted  meeting 
is  held,  or,  if  on  the  evenings  of  the  week,  meetings 
are  prolonged  an  half  hour  beyond  the  usual  length. 
And  yet  the  persons  who  make  such  an  outcry,  see 
no  objection  to  dancing  meetings  if  they  are  con- 
tinued until  morning.  They  are  afraid  that  Chris- 
tians will  suffer,  if  they  sit  a  single  hour  in  the  pray- 
ing circle,  even  though  they  be  arrayed  in  warm, 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         121 

comfortable  clothing,  and  yet  will  resort  to  the  danc- 
ing hall  in  the  most  unbecoming  and  uncomfortable 
apparel,  and  deem  it  no  outrage  upon  the  laws  of 
nature.  When  this  matter  shall  be  seen  in  its  proper 
light,  it  will  be  found  that  to  the  sinful  amusements, 
the  sexton  is  to  a  great  extent  indebted  for  his  trade  ; 
that  more  lives  are  lost  by  them,  than  by  war.  There 
should  (if  justice  had  its  rule),  be  a  hospital  beside 
every  dancing  hall,  and  every  tippling  shop  in  our 
land,  and  the  broken  down  specimens  of  humanity 
who  keep  these  laboratories  of  death,  should  behold 
the  destruction  which  they  cause. 

3.  They  lead  to  extravagance  and  prodigality. 
The  road  is  not  a  long  one,  from  affluence  to  poverty, 
when  vice  has  become  a  source  of  amusement  and 
daily  recreation.  We  have  not  to  travel  far  to 
find  sad  and  solemn  lessons,  teaching  the  influence 
of  vicious  pleasure  upon  the  purse  and  pocket. 
Every  city  has  them.  They  throng  the  temple  of 
memory.  They  are  living  all  around  us.  The  great 
cause  why  so  many  young  men  are  obliged  to  aban- 
don business,  and  retire  from  the  scenes  of  youth,  is{ 
not  because  commercial  embarrassments  have  spread 
over  the  land,  not  because  business  is  not  profitable, 
but  because  vicious  pleasure  is  unprofitable,  because 
a  course  of  vice  will  swallow  up  the  most  lavish  in- 
come, because  the  ceaseless  cry  of  these  depraved 
pleasures  is  like  that  of  the  daughter  of  the  leech, 


122          N       THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

Give,  give.  To  a  young  man  accustomed  to  find  en- 
joyment in  the  vicious  amusements  of  the  day,  there 
is  no  end  to  expenses.  They  come  thicker  and  faster, 
like  the  snow  flakes  of  winter.  They  multiply  and 
increase  every  day,  and  soon  the  course  of  folly  must 
be  broken  up,  or  the  means  for  continuing  these  ex- 
cesses, furnished  from  some  other  quarter.  Do  you 
ask  the  cause  of  so  much  bankruptcy  ?  Look  for  a 
reply  to  the  sinful  amusements  of  our  large  cities, 
pursued  by  their  ten  thousand  votaries.  Do  you  ask 
the  cause  of  so  much  moral  delinquency  ?  of  so  much 
dishonesty  ?  so  much  forgery,  and  theft,  and  wrong  ? 
Go,  for  an  answer,  to  the  sin-stained  pleasures  of  the 
young.  Do  you  ask  the  cause  of  extravagance,  prodi- 
gality, and  suffering  ?  Go  to  the  lighted  hall,  the 
playhouse,  and  the  gay  saloon,  and  you  have  the  reply. 

"  Vice  drains  our  cellar  dry, 
And  keeps  our  larder  clean  ;  puts  out  our  fires, 
And  introduces  hunger,  frost,  and  -woe, 
Where  peace  and  hospitality  might  reign." 

4.  They  are  unnatural.  Man  does  not  need  them. 
They  are  perversions  of  our  nature,  and  produce 
misery  only.  They  do  not  bring  relaxation  and  re- 
lief, but  sorrow  and  distress.  They  are  wholly  un- 
necessary. God  has  given  us  pure  pleasures  in 
abundance.  He  has  surrounded  us  with  an  endless 
variety  of  charms,  and  made  us  to  enjoy  them.  The 
angels  might  as  well  descend  to  earth  in  the  vain  hope 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         123 

of  finding  more  bliss  here,  than  beside  the  shining 
throne,  as  man  leave  the  pure  joys  and  pleasures 
which  God  has  given,  to  grasp  those  which  Satan  has 
devised  for  his  destruction.  Says  an  eloquent  writer, 
"  Upon  this  broad  earth,  perfumed  with  flowers,  scent- 
ed with  odors,  brilliant  in  colors,  vocal  with  echo- 
ing and  re-echoing  melody,  I  take  my  stand  against 
all  demoralizing  pleasure.  Is  it  not  enough  that  our 
Father's  house  is  so  full  of  dear  delights,  that  we  must 
wander  prodigal  to  the  swineherd  for  husks,  and  to 
the  slough  for  drink  ?  When  the  trees  of  God's  heri- 
tage bend  over  our  heads,  and  solicit  our  hand  to 
pluck  the  golden  fruitage,  must  we  still  go  in  search 
of  the  apples  of  Sodom  —  outside  fair,  and  inside 
ashes  ?  Men  will  crowd  the  circus  to  hear  clowns, 
and  see  rare  feats  of  horsemanship ;  but  a  bird  may 
poise  beneath  the  very  sun,  or  flying  downward  swoop 
from  the  high  heavens  ;  then  flit  with  graceful  ease, 
hither  and  thither,  pouring  liquid  song  as  if  it  were  a 
perennial  fountain  of  sound,  no  man  cares  for  that. 
Upon  the  stage  of  life,  the  vastest  tragedies  are  per- 
forming in  every  act ;  nations  pitching  headlong  to 
their  final  catastrophe ;  others,  raising  their  youthful 
forms  to  begin  the  drama  of  their  existence.  The 
world  of  society  is  as  full  of  exciting  interest,  as  na- 
ture is  full  of  beauty.  The  great  dramatic  throng  of 
life  is  hustling  along,  the  wise,  the  fool,  the  clown, 
the  miser,  the  bereaved,  the  broken-hearted.  Life 


124  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

mingles  before  us  smiles  and  tears,  sighs  and  laugh- 
ter, joy  and  gloom,  as  the  spring  mingles  the  "winter 
storm  and  summer  sunshine.  To  this  vast  theatre 
which  God  hath  builded,  where  stranger  plays  are 
seen  than  ever  authors  writ,  man  seldom  cares  to 
come.  When  God  dramatizes,  when  nations  act, 
or  all  human  kind  conspire  to  educe  the  vast  catas- 
trophe, men  sleep  and  snore  ;  and  let  the  busy  scene 
go  on,  unlocked,  unthought  upon,  and  turn  from  all 
its  varied  magnificence  to  hunt  out  some  candle- 
lighted  hole,  and  gaze  at  drunken  ranters,  or  cry  at 
the  piteous  virtue  of  harlots  in  distress." 

5.  They  are  heart-corrupting,  and  soulrdestroying. 
"Were  the  effects  of  vicious  amusements  confined  to 
this  life,  were  the  waste  of  time,  the  abuse  of  health, 
the  extravagance  and  prodigality,  all  the  evil  which 
could  flow  from  them,  they  might  be  sought  with  less 
guilt  than  at  present.  But  they  have  immediate  in- 
fluence upon  the  soul  of  man,  and  are  doubtless  the 
cause  of  the  destruction  of  thousands.  The  day  of 
judgment  will  alone  reveal  the  influence  of  depraved 
pleasures  in  peopling  that  world  where  no  light  is, 
and  where  the  wail  of  sorrow  is  ever  heard.  They 
contribute  essentially  to  deaden  the  heart  to  holy  in- 
fluences, to  sear  the  conscience,  and  prepare  the  vic- 
tim to  go  out  into  blackness  and  darkness.  Those 
who  are  accustomed  to  find  pleasure  in  such  scenes, 
are  well  aware,  that  they  are  inconsistent  with  reli- 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.         125 

gion,  and  the  contemplation  of  heavenly  objects ;  that 
they  turn  the  mind  away  from  God,  and  blind  the 
eyes  to  all  the  dangers  of  the  future. 

It  is  a  sad  sight,  to  see  men  so  nobly  made,  with 
such  a  lofty  destiny  before  them,  "with  so  many  high 
hopes  of  future  good,  pursuing  the  miserable  phantoms 
of  this  life,  and  choosing  pleasure  and  sinful  mirth, 
while  heaven  and  immortality  should  be  the  objects 
of  their  choice.  And  I  presume  they  will  continue 
in  this  course  of  madness  until  death  calls  them  away 
to  the  retributions  of  eternity.  As  it  was  in  the  days 
of  Noah,  so  shall  it  be  in  the  coming  of  the  Son 
of  man.  Men  will  eat  and  drink,  work  and  play, 
be  sorrowful  and  merry  until  the  end  come,  and  the 
wicked  shall  be  destroyed.  And  I  fear  that  some 
will  be  so  attached  to  their  pleasures  that  they  will 
continue  to  sport  with  judgment,  until  the  power  of 
vengeance  shall  burst  upon  them. 

I  know  not  as  I  can  better  close  this  discourse, 
than  by  relating  an  incident  which  is  said  to  have  oc- 
curred while  the  French  army  occupied  the  city  of 
Moscow.  Of  its  truth  or  falsity,  I  have  no  means  of 
knowing.  A  party  of  officers  and  soldiers  determined 
to  have  a  military  levee,  and  for  this  purpose  chose 
the  deserted  palace  of  a  Russian  nobleman,  in  the 
vault  of  which  a  large  quantity  of  powder  had  been 
deposited.  That  night  the  city  was  set  on  fire.  As 
the  sun  went  down,  they  began  to  assemble.  The 


126  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

females  who  followed  the  fortunes  of  the  French 
forces,  were  decorated  for  the  occasion.  The  gayest 
and  noblest  of  the  army  were  there,  and  merriment 
reigned  over  the  crowd.  During  the  dance  the  fire 
rapidly  approached  them ;  they  saw  it  coming,  hut 
felt  no  fear.  At  length  the  building  next  to  the  one 
which  they  occupied  was  on  fire.  Coming  to  the  win- 
dows, they  gazed  upon  the  billows  of  fire  which  swept 
upon  their  fortress,  and  then  returned  to  their  amuse- 
ment. Again  and  again  they  left  their  pleasure,  to 
watch  the  progress  of  the  flames.  At  length  the 
dance  ceased,  and  the  necessity  of  leaving  the  scene 
of  merriment  became  apparent  to  all.  They  were  en- 
veloped in  a  flood  of  fire,  and  gazed  on  with  deep  and 
awful  solemnity.  At  length  the  fire  communicating  to 
their  own  building,  caused  them  to  prepare  for  flight, 
when  a  brave  young  officer,  named  Carnot,  waved  his 
jeweled  glove  above  his  head,  and  exclaimed,  "  One 
dance  more,  and  defiance  to  the  flame."  All  caught 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  and,  "  One  dance 
more,  and  defiance  to  the  flame,"  burst  from  the  lips 
of  all.  The  dance  commenced,  louder  and  louder 
grew  the  sound  of  music,  and  faster  and  faster  fell 
the  pattering  footsteps  of  dancing  men  and  women, 
when  suddenly  they  heard  a  cry,  "  The  fire  has 
reached  the  magazine,  fly !  fly !  for  life  !"  One 
moment  they  stood,  transfixed  with  horror ;  they  did 
not  know  the  magazine  was  there,  and  ere  they  re- 


DANGEROUS  AMUSEMENTS.  127 

covered  from  their  stupor,  the  vault  exploded ;  the 
building  was  shattered  to  pieces,  and  the  dancers 
were  hurled  into  a  fearful  eternity. 

Thus  will  it  be  in  the  final  day.  Men  will  be  as 
careless  as  were  those  ill-fated  revellers.  Methinks 
the  hour  has  come,  and  I  stand  upon  an  eminence 
from  which  I  behold  the  vices  and  amusements  of 
earth.  I  warn  them,  and  tell  them,  that  hi  such  an 
hour  as  they  think  not,  the  son  of  man  cometh.  With 
jeering  laugh,  they  ask,  "  Where  is  the  promise  of 
his  coming  ?"  I  bid  them  prepare  to  meet  their  God. 
They  reply,  "  Pleasure  is  our  God."  I  tell  them  of 
an  awful  judgment ;  a  miserable  eternity ;  and  crying 
"  priestcraft,"  they  again  engage  in  the  noisy  revel. 
Soon  an  awful  rumbling  is  heard  in  the  heavens.  A 
thousand  voices  tell  them,  that  the  angels  are  rolling 
out  the  judgment  throne.  They  reply,  "  One  dance 
more,  and  defiance  to  that  throne."  Suddenly  the 
stars  go  out,  the  moon  turns  to  blood,  all  nature  is 
convulsed,  and  universal  panic  seizes  the  hearts  of  all 
men,  when,  horror  struck,  I  see  some  Carnot,  turn 
his  bloodshot  eyes  upon  the  burning  world,  and  wav- 
ing his  jeweled  hand  above  his  head,  exclaim,  "  One 
dance  more,  and  defiance  to  that  flame,"  and  ere 
that  dance  is  done,  the  bolt  is  sped,  the  magazine 
of  the  universe  explodes,  and  the  time  to  dance  is 
gone,  GONE  FOREVER,  FOREVER. 


LECTURE   VI. 

WEALTH    AND    FAME. 

FOB  EICHE8   ARE   NOT   FOREVER;   AND    DOTH    THE    CBOWN  EN- 
DURE TO  EVERY  GENERATION? — Proverbs  27  :  24. 

FEW  men  have  had  a  clearer  view  of  the  entire 
emptiness  of  all  worldly  good,  than  the  writer  of  the 
book  of  Proverbs.  He  had  measured  the  world  in 
which  he  lived,  and  gauged  its  depths  of  happiness. 
He  had  ascended  the  highest  pinnacle  of  human  ob- 
servation, and  gazed  upon  all  the  pursuits  and  plea- 
sures of  mankind.  He  had  wandered  up  and  down 
the  world,  and  found  in  the  cottage  and  the  palace, 
the  same  unsatisfying  and  unsubstantial  bliss.  He 
had  secured  riches,  honor,  friends,  and  pleasure,  but 
amid  them  all,  he  could  not  forget  that  he  was  mor- 
tal. Like  a  wise  man,  he  endeavored  to  profit  by 
what  he  learned,  and  instead  of  placing  his  whole  de- 
pendence on  fleeting  and  transitory  possessions,  sought 
by  divine  aid,  the  riches  of  incorruptible  and  imperish- 
able worth. 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  129 

• 

The  results  of  his  meditations,  he  has  given  us  in 
the  book  which  has  been  so  appropriately  designated, 
"  The  Book  of  Proverbs."  In  that  book  is  gathered 
the  full  experience  of  a  man  who  had  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  human  life,  and  who  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave  had  studied  it ;  an  experience  given  in  a 
form,  at  once  calculated  to  attract  the  attention  and 
benefit  the  reader ;  a  book  of  sentences  and  senti- 
ments, the  whole  of  which  constitutes  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  systems  of  moral  ethics,  which  was  ever 
placed  in  the  hands  of  a  young  man.  The  extract 
from  that  book  which  I  have  read  as  my  text,  will  be 
the  basis  of  a  lecture  this  evening  upon  WEALTH  AND 

FAME. 

I  would  not,  of  course,  be  understood  to  condemn 
the  acquisition  of  wealth,  or  the  pursuit  of  fame,  alto- 
gether. I  would  not  wish  to  check  one  laudable  de- 
sire for  the  things  of  life,  or  quench  a  single  aspiration 
of  the  mind  for  the  applause  of  others.  There  is 
nothing  wrong  in  the  accumulation  of  property ;  there 
is  nothing  wrong  in  a  desire  to  have  our  deeds  ap- 
proved by  our  fellow-men.  Some  of  the  best  and 
purest  men  of  the  world  have  been  men  of  vast  for- 
tunes and  unbounded  fame,  and  that  man  who  de- 
spises either  of  them,  exhibits  his  folly.  The  only 
caution  which  the  Bible  gives,  is,  that  we  use  them 
well,  and  not  be  inordinately  attached  to  them.  It 
sanctions  the  pursuit  of  riches  to  a  proper  degree, 
9 


130      ^  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

and  informs  us  that  the  love  of  money,  and  not 
money  itself,  is  the  root  of  all  evil.  Placed  as  we 
are  in  this  world,  it  is  our  duty  to  secure  property,  if 
we  can  by  honest  and  laudable  means.  God  has 
made  our  comfort  and  convenience  in  this  life  some- 
what dependent  on  riches.  He  has  surrounded  us 
with  wants  and  wishes  which  money  alone  can  gratify, 
and  in  a  hundred  ways  pointed  out  to  us  the  propriety 
of  laboring  for  the  useful  and  necessary  means  of  sub- 
sistence. A  proper  and  praiseworthy  desire  to  have 
a  competency  is  not  a  sin.  It  has  nothing  in  it  of  a 
miserly  character,  and  has  been  encouraged  and  al- 
lowed by  God  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  Those  young 
men,  therefore,  who  are  honestly  laboring  to  amass 
wealth,  in  hope  that  it  will  make  them  more  use- 
ful in  life,  and  help  them  better  to  benefit  man,  and 
glorify  God,  are  doing  right,  and  deserve  the  encour- 
agement of  the  wise  and  good.  They  only  are  to  be 
condemned,  who  are  striving  to  grow  rich  by  dishonest 
means,  or,  who  after  having  secured  property,  use  it 
for  their  own  selfish  gratification.  I  may  be  mistaken, 
but  I  think  God  looks  from  heaven  with  pleasure  upon 
the  busy  crowds  of  human  life,  who  are  diligent  in 
business,  and  amassing  property  that  they  may  spend 
it  in  his  service.  I  am  well  aware  that  gold  has  a 
tendency  to  corrupt  the  heart,  and  as  a  general  thing, 
a  man's  soul  becomes  frozen  and  deathlike  to  just  the 
extent  of  his  riches ;  but  this  arises  wholly  from  the 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  131 

fact  that  money  is  perverted  from  its  legitimate  use, 
that  it  is  made  the  occasion  of  sin,  that  it  is  loved 
more  than  the  Being  who  gave  it.  You  will  there- 
fore remember,  as  I  pass  through  this  lecture,  that  I 
condemn  only  an  inordinate  desire  for  riches. 

The  same  remarks  may  he  made  of  fame.  Fame 
is  denned  to  be  a  favorable  report  of  one's  character ; 
praise  given  to  a  man  because  of  his  real  or  supposed 
good  deeds.  Certainly  nothing  can  be  wrong  in  a 
desire  for  this.  God  has  created  us  with  a  disposi- 
tion to  please  our  fellow  men,  and  receive  their  appro- 
val. And  this  we  find  to  be  one  of  the  ties  which 
bind  society  together.  But  for  this,  man  would  act 
without  regard  to  the  feelings  of  his  neighbors,  and 
human  life  would  become  one  wild  scene  of  contention 
and  confusion.  The  desire  to  be  respected  by  our 
fellow  men,  is  a  proper  desire.  It  restrains  from  vice 
hundreds,  who  but  for  this,  would  rush  into  sin.  It 
leads  to  self-respect,  and  is  one  of  the  pillars  of  hu- 
man character.  Strike  it  down,  and  you  remove  one 
of  the  strong  inducements  to  virtue,  and  leave  the 
young  without  a  motive  which  now  operates  in  behalf 
of  morality  with  tremendous  force.  Instead  there- 
fore of  checking  the  desire  to  please  others,  it  should 
be  encouraged.  The  young  should  be  taught  that 
self-respect,  and  the  respect  of  community,  are  both 
essential  to  success  in  life,  and  early  led  by  honesty, 
rectitude,  and  piety,  to  gain  the  confidence  and  ea- 


132  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

teem  of  society.  But  fame  is  not  always  pursued  for 
this  purpose  alone.  Like  money,  it  has  its  worship- 
pers who  are  determined  to  secure  it,  at  the  hazard 
of  all  the  other  blessings  of  this  life,  and  the  richer 
blessings  of  the  life  to  come.  With  many,  fame  has 
changed  into  a  frightful  ambition,  absorbing  all  the 
more  lovely  and  amiable  traits  of  character,  and 
changing  man  into  a  blinded,  deluded  admirer  of  a 
fantom  which  will  disappear  in  an  hour. 

Thus  money  and  fame,  instead  of  being  the  bless- 
ings which  God  designed,  become  sources  of  iniquity, 
upon  which  He  must  look  with  peculiar  disapproba- 
tion and  displeasure.  You  will  allow  me  therefore  to 
offer  a  few  remarks  at  this  time,  upon  the  folly  of  an 
inordinate  attachment  to  wealth  and  fame. 

1.  They  are  fluctuating  and  uncertain.  All  who 
have  observed  the  progress  of  the  world's  great 
changes,  must  have  felt  the  fearful  uncertainty  of 
earthly  honors  and  emoluments.  Though  all  past 
history  has  had  its  changes,  and  the  record  of  every 
nation  is  full  of  tokens  of  falling  greatness,  yet  to 
our  times  has  been  left  the  task  of  proving  most  con- 
clusively to  the  charmed  and  cheated  world,  that  all 
earthly  honor,  and  ambition,  and  riches,  are  as  fluc- 
tuating and  unstable  as  the  tossed  waves  of  the  foam- 
ing sea.  The  last  half  century  has  been  full  of 
changes,  in  both  private  and  public  life.  Single  for- 
tunes, and  the  fortunes  of  nations,  have  been  gained 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  133 

and  lost.  Private  individuals  and  public  men  have 
risen  to  stations  of  honor  and  opulence,  and  fallen  as 
suddenly.  The  world  has  been  dazzled  bj  meteors, 
which  have  flashed  athwart  the  sky,  and  disappeared, 
leaving  the  world  in  darkness.  Perhaps  there  never 
has  been  a  time  of  such  political  and  commercial  em- 
barrassment and  change.  The  whole  world  seems  to 
be  resting  on  the  hollow  bosom  of  a  volcano.  Sta- 
bility is  found  nowhere.  The  church  and  the  state 
are  heaving  with  internal  disorders.  Life  is  con- 
vulsed, and  the  shaking  pillars  of  human  society  at- 
test the  precarious  character  of  all  earthly  ambition. 
Similar  changes  to  those  which  are  occurring  in  great 
states  and  nations,  are  found  in  every  department  of 
life,  though  on  a  smaller  scale.  From  the  tradesman 
who  acts  upon  his  narrow  capital  of  a  few  hundred 
dollars,  up  through  all  the  ranks  of  wealth  to  the  man 
who  sports  and  jests  with  thousands,  and  is  in  earnest 
only  when  he  deals  with  millions,  there  is  commotion. 
From  the  little  province,  which  has  scarcely  found  a 
place  upon  the  map,  and  whose  insignificance  has  de- 
nied it  a  record  on  the  pages  of  history,  up  to  the 
great  kingdoms  whose  thrones  turn  upon  the  world's 
centre,  and  whose  political  economy  is  interwoven 
with  the  very  texture  of  civilized  life,  there  have  been 
agitating  and  distressing  changes. 

Men  who  a  few  years  ago,  were  rich  and  increased 
in  goods,  having  need  of  nothing,  are  now  bankrupt ; 


134  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FBIEND. 

their  fortunes  are  scattered  to  the  winds  of  heaven, 
their  rich  estates  are  occupied  by  others,  their  proud 
mansions  are  inhabited  by  those  who  awhile  since 
lived  in  poverty,  and  all  the  tokens  of  their  former 
wealth  are  gone.  Men  who  not  long  ago,  heard 
their  names  chanted  by  an  admiring  crowd  of  human 
beings,  now  hear  them  pronounced  with  scorn  and  de- 
rision. Sovereigns  who  imagined  themselves  seated 
securely  on  their  thrones,  have  been  driven  into  vaga- 
bondage, and  now  are  eating  the  bread  of  disgrace 
and  poverty.  Kings  have  become  slaves,  and  slaves 
are  changed  to  kings.  The  wheel  of  fortune  is  turn- 
ing every  hour,  and  those  who  are  in  affluence  to-day, 
know  not  where  they  will  be  to-morrow.  To  illustrate 
the  point  more  clearly,  I  will  refer  to  a  few  changes 
which  have  occurred  in  France,  a  nation  which  at  the 
present  time  is  drawing  considerable  attention,  a  na- 
tion which  has  seen  as  many  fearful  revolutions  as 
perhaps  any  other  on  the  globe,  and  been  as  often 
deluged  in  blood  and  crime. 

A  little  more  than  fifty  years  ago,  Louis  XVI. 
was  seated  firmly  upon  the  throne  of  that  ill-fated 
kingdom.  His  reign  Avas  a  weak,  but  splendid  one. 
He  had  assumed  the  reins  of  government  under 
favorable  auspices,  and  for  awhile  was  the  idol  of 
the  people.  His  court  was  the  centre  of  beauty, 
fashion,  and  splendor,  and  he  rode  upon  the  full  tide 
of  popular  applause.  If  we  could  have  looked  upon 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  135 

the  monarch  then,  we  should  have  regarded  his  case 
as  one  of  the  best  specimens  of  permanent  power. 
He  seemed  so  strongly  entrenched  in  the  affections 
of  the  people,  so  honored  by  the  esteem  of  other  na- 
tions, so  surrounded  by  servile  armies,  so  favored  by 
the  god  of  wealth,  that  none  would  have  predicted  his 
sad  end.  But  the  wave  of  popularity  which  attended 
him  in  the  early  part  of  his  administration,  and  bore 
him  on  to  fortune,  was  deceitful.  The  voice  which 
shouted  his  name  with  rapture,  was  calling  for  his 
blood.  Honored  as  he  was,  wealthy  as  he  had  been, 
he  found  but  a  single  step  from  the  monarch's  throne 
to  the  block  of  the  malefactor  ;  but  one  step  from  the 
emoluments  of  office,  and  the  kingly  prerogatives,  to 
the  death  of  ignominy.  The  heaving  storm  of  revo- 
lution fell  not  on  him  alone.  His  beautiful,  accom- 
plished, and  high-born  queen,  Marie- Antoinette,  fol- 
lowed him  to  the  scaffold.  Bound  on  a  cart,  sitting 
on  the  coffin  which  she  was  soon  to  fill  with  her  cold 
corpse,  she  roti^e  along,  the  widow  of  a  beheaded  king, 
to  her  own  execution.  Crowds  of  men  and  women, 
who  had  followed  her  with  admiration  not  long  before, 
lined  the  streets  through  which  she  passed,  but  offered 
no  assistance,  and  uttered  no  sympathy ;  and  when 
her  trunkless  head  was  elevated  on  a  pike  before 
their  eyes,  they  shouted,  "  The  tyrants  have  fallen." 
Scarcely  had  this  wild  scene  passed  away,  ere  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte  emerged  from  his  obscurity,  and  by 


136  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

extraordinary  energy  lifted  himself  into  the  affections 
of  the  people,  and  the  offices  of  trust.  From  one 
step  to  another, -he  ascended,  until  the  imperial  crown 
was  placed  by  his  own  hands  upon  his  head.  Each 
succeeding  month  clustered  new  glory  around  his  ad- 
ministration, and  he  soon  became  the  master  of  Eu- 
rope, the  wonder  of  the  world.  He  made  kings,  and 
deposed  them.  He  sported  with  thrones  and  states, 
as  a  child  with  the  leaves  of  a  broken  flower.  He 
had  wealth,  fame,  glory,  success,  all  of  them.  But 
alas !  earthly  greatness  is  precarious.  In  one  day, 
the  glory  of  his  arms  became  dim,  the  lustre  of  his 
crown  faded,  the  sceptre  fell  from  his  palsied  hand, 
and  he  fled,  an  exile  and  a  wanderer  to  a  distant 
home.  How  strikingly  does  his  short,  eventful  life, 
exhibit  the  vanity  of  human  ambition.  A  monarch 
yesterday ;  to-day  a  slave.  Yesterday,  flushed  with 
conquest,  a  continent  fleeing  before  him  ;  to-day  phi- 
ing  in  solitude,  and  perhaps  poisoned  by  the  govern- 
ment into  whose  hand  he  had  given  himself  for  pro- 
tection. 

Then  followed  ~ Louis  Philippe,  the  golden  monarch. 
He  deemed  wealth  and  fame  substantial,  when  found- 
.ed  on  standing  armies,  and  on  the  ignorance  of  the 
people.  Hence,  he  suppressed  all  revolutionary  pub- 
lications, enlarged  his  standing  army,  procured  a  bul- 
letproof coach,  doubled  his  guard,  and  made  his 
pcwer  appear  invincible  and  his  throne  impregnable. 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  137 

But  in  an  hour  the  tide  of  change  swept  them 
all  away.  The  throne  was  torn  from  its  place,  and 
burned  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  the  sceptre  was  broken 
to  pieces  by  an  infuriated  mob,  the  signs  of  royalty 
were  scattered  before  the  wild  commotion,  and  the 
king  and  his  family  fled  into  exile,  without  money 
enough  in  his  purse  to  purchase  a  change  of  garment. 

Other  nations  of  the  earth,  though  not  so  promi- 
nent as  the  one  to  which  I  have  referred,  are  all 
undergoing,  more  or  less,  really  the  same  process. 
Scarcely  a  throne  in  Europe  is  secure,  and  fame  and 
wealth  are  found  to  be  as  uncertain  as  the  whistling 
wind.  Even  ecclesiastical  fame,  and  the  revenue 
which  is  drawn  from  extensive  church  organizations 
are  not  sure.  We  see  a  potentate,  who  has  claimed 
to  be  the  "  Vicegerent  of  God,"  driven  from  the  epis- 
copal palace,  and  seeking  a  home  in  a  dishonored 
and  unknown  spot. 

Nor  in  our  own  country,  is  wealth  and  fame  more 
certain.  Some  who  live  and  move  among  us,  clad  in 
rags  and  poverty,  were  born  heirs  of  extensive  pos- 
sessions, but  those  possessions  have  wasted  away. 
As  a  general  thing  a  fortune  runs  itself  out,  ere  it 
reaches  the  fourth  generation,  and  often  a  single  life- 
tune  is  sufficient  to  change  the  pecuniary  circum- 
stances of  a  multitude  of  men.  A  single  failure 
will  sometimes  involve  a  hundred  firms  in  rum,  and 
lead  down  a  hundred  families  to  abject  poverty.  A 


138  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

single  conflagration  which  sweeps  along  the  crowded 
streets  of  a  city,  consuming  property,  will  often  de- 
stroy the  hard  earnings  of  many  years,  and  leave 
toiling  men  to  die  in  sorrow,  destitute  of  enough  to 
purchase  a  winding-sheet.  Human  life  is  one  con- 
stant scene  of  migration  from  affluence  to  poverty,  a 
shifting  panorama  of  good  and  evil. 

Nor  does  fame  in  republics,  have  anything  more 
of  stability,  than  wealth.  Each  year  presents  us  with 
new  candidates  for  popular  applause,  and  consigns 
the  favorites  of  previous  years  to  oblivion.  Our  po- 
litical ingratitude  is  a  marked  feature  of  our  national 
history.  Men  who  have  toiled  long  and  well,  are 
denounced  for  some  difference  in  political  opinion, 
and  their  places  in  the  government  and  in  halls  of 
legislation,  filled  with  those  who  have  no  claim  to 
popular  favor.  And  thus  it  will  continue  to  be,  while 
the  human  mind  remains  the  same  as  at  present,  and 
he  who  is  dependent  upon  the  mad  shout  of  the  popu- 
lace, which  is  as  unstable  as  water,  will  soon  find  that 
his  station  is  one  of  precarious  and  doubtful  character. 
In  the  times  of  Christ,  our  divine  Saviour,  he  was 
made  the  object  of  ridicule  at  one  time,  and  of  praise 
at  another  time.  His  reputation  was  tossed  upon  'the 
wave  of  inconstant  human  passion,  and  his  name 
shouted  at  one  period  with  rapture,  and  at  another 
period  with  derision.  He  lived,  the  sport  of  chang- 
ing man  ;  he  died,  the  victim  of  popular  indignation. 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  139 

He  heard  the  shout,  "  Hosanna,  hosanna,  to  the  Son 
of  David ;"  and  the  cry,  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him," 
sounded  in  his  ears,  as  it  was  echoed  out  by  the  same 
multitude. 

Such  being  the  precarious  character  of  wealth  and 
fame,  I  would  suggest  that  they  be  not  made  the 
chief  objects  of  pursuit.  There  is  a  purer  wealth, 
there  is  a  more  exalted  honor,  which  cometh  down 
from  heaven.  While  I  would  urge  a  proper  interest 
in  the  acquisition  of  property  and  a  good  character,  I 
would  suggest  that  wealth  and  honor  are  needed  La 
the  world  to  come,  and  if  these  be  ours,  the  failure  to 
secure  temporal  wealth  and  applause  will  be  of  but 
little  consequence. 

2.  TJiey  fail  to  secure  permanent  happiness.  Long 
ago  it  was  proved  that  things  external  cannot  se- 
cure permanent  peace  and  pleasure. 

"  The  conscious  mind  is  its  own  awful  world," 

and  if  this  is  in  commotion,  no  external  circumstances 
can  give  it  rest.  Hence  we  have  found  some  of  our 
most  wealthy  men  to  be  the  most  miserable  of  all. 
Surrounded  by  all  the  charms  of  luxury  and  splendor, 
having  every  wish  gratified,  and  every  desire  fulfilled, 
they  walk  on  earth  the  moving  monuments  of  woe. 
The  notion  is  a  false  one,  that  happiness  depends  upon 
wealth.  It  is  not  true,  that  our  most  wealthy  men 
are  the  most  happy.  Facts  are  against  it.  Riches 


140  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

must  be  attended  with  care  and  sorrow,  and  gene- 
rally, the  more  wealth  a  man  has,  the  fewer  will  be 
his  hours  of  pleasure.  I  doubt  whether  the  man  who 
has  thousands  at  command,  who  is  enabled  to  look 
abroad  upon  extensive  fields,  and  watch  for  returning 
vessels,  is  as  happy  as  the  day  laborer,  who  owns 
not  the  roof  which  covers  him,  and  who  knows  not 
how  long  he  shall  have  food  for  his  children.  The 
one,  has  riches  and  crushing  cares ;  the  other,  has 
penury  and  peace.  The  one  trusts  in  his  laden  ship, 
in  the  income  of  his  stocks,  in  the  safety  of  his  invest- 
ments ;  the  other,  trusts  the  God  who  heareth  the 
young  ravens  when  they  cry,  and  looks  for  food  and 
raiment  to  the 

"  Glorious  Giver,  who  doeth  all  things  well." 

Nor  will  fame  secure  peace  of  mind,  and  give  rest  to 
the  troubled  conscience.  Men  have  tried  it,  and 
failed.  They  have  secured  the  breath  of  popular  ap- 
plause, they  have  heard  their  names  mingled  with 
sweet  strains  of  music,  but  found  the  heart  within, 
restless  and  unsatisfied.  The  highest  pinnacle  of 
earthly  ambition  has  been  attained,  but  the  "  aching 
void"  has  not  been  filled,  nor  can  it  be.  As  well 
might  we  attempt  to  satisfy  the  desire  for  food  with 
husks  and  thorns,  as  to  satisfy  the  longings  of  immor- 
tality with  the  transient  and  unmeaning  praises  of  an 
excited  crowd.  It  is  said  of  Alexander,  that  when 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  141 

he  had  secured  the  world's  homage,  and  covered  the 
earth  with  the  fame  of  his  conquests,  he  sat  down  and 
wept,  because  there  were  no  more  kingdoms  and 
states  to  conquer.  He  had  wealth,  fame,  glory ;  but 
they  did  not  give  him  happiness.  Had  he  found 
another  world  and  made  himself  master  of  it,  he 
would  have  been  no  nearer  the  point  at  which  he 
aimed.  Other  men  whose  fame  has  been  world-wide, 
have  given  unequivocal  evidence,  that  they  had  no 
enjoyment  in  the  things  around  them,  and  fame  and 
riches  instead  of  being  sources  of  pleasure,  have 
proved  to  be  sources  of  sorrow  and  distress.  We  are 
sadly  deceived  in  respect  to  these  things.  There  is  a 
glitter,  a  splendor,  around  the  rich  man's  gold  ;  there 
is  a  charm  to  applause  and  honor,  which  cheats  the 
blinded  throng.  The  headache  and  the  heart-ache, 
cometh  alike  to  rich  and  poor,  noble  and  ignoble. 
All  the  gold  which  can  be  found  in  yonder  newly  dis- 
covered mines,  cannot  drive  away  the  sorrow  which 
unbidden  and  uncalled,  will  rush  into  the  temple  of 
the  soul.  The  loudest  blast  of  Fame's  burnished 
trumpet,  cannot  make  melody  to  a  heart  oppressed 
with  sorrow,  and  bowed  with  guilt.  Go  ask  the 
Astors,  Brookses,  Lawrences,  and  others,  who  have 
accumulated  large  fortunes,  and  they  will  tell  you, 
that  the  mere  possession  of  wealth,  is  not  the  promi- 
nent source  of  pleasure,  that  they  were  as  happy  when 
they  were  poor  men,  as  when  their  fortunes  had  in- 


142  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

creased  to  millions.  Go  ask  the  proudest  military 
chieftain  that  ever  drew  a  sword,  or  put  a  trumpet 
to  his  lips ;  go  ask  the  man  most  famed  for  wisdom, 
skill,  and  eloquence,  and  they  will  both  tell  you,  that 
fame  is  an  empty  blast,  and  has  no  power  to  satisfy 
the  cravings  of  a  deathless  soul.  Gather  in  one  spa- 
cious apartment  all  the  wealthy  ones,  and  the  honor- 
ed of  the  earth,  and  you  will  find  no  class  of  men  in 
the  wide  world  who  bear  so  many  marks  of  care,  and 
wear  so  many  traces  of  sorrow,  as  do  these  favored 
sons  of  Adam. 

"  It  is  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich ; 
And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  honor  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit ; 
What !  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 
Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
And  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 
Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye." 

Certainly  not !  Nor  is  the  man  of  wealth  and  fame, 
more  truly  great,  and  wise,  and  happy,  because  he  is 
more  favored  than  his  fellows.  Wealth  and  fame,  are 
often  like  the  feathers  of  the  jay,  and  the  skin  of  the 
adder,  given  irrespective  of  a  man's  virtues  or  vices. 
The  pleasant  plumage,  does  not  make  the  jay  sing 
more  sweetly ;  the  painted  skin,  does  not  detract  from 
the  poisonous  nature  of  the  adder.  The  adder  is  the 
adder  still,  with  all  his  beauty ;  and  the  rich  man 
with  all  his  \realth  and  honor,  remains  a  poor  sorrow- 


WEALTH  AND  TAME.  143 

stricken  child  of  earth.  Tell  me,  ye  youthful  aspi- 
rants for  gold  and  silver,  ye  who  are  disposed  to  leave 
home  and  friends,  and  all  the  endearments  of  civilized 
life,  tell  me,  what  a  fortune  is  worth,  which  cannot 
purchase  exemption  from  a  single  pain  of  body,  a  sin- 
gle sorrow  of  the  heart  ?  Tell  me,  what  the  plaudits 
of  the  world  are  worth  which  cannot  ease  the  guilty 
conscience,  or  wipe  away  one  stain  of  guilt  ? 

3.  Unreasonably  loved,  they  lead  to  crime.  I  have 
shown  that  wealth  may  be  acquired,  and  fame  pur- 
sued, to  a  certain  extent.  Well  would  it  be  for  man, 
if  he  would  stop  where  God  has  set  the  bounds,  but 
in  many  cases  he  will  not.  The  mind  which  is  bent 
on  fame,  will  pursue  it  at  the  hazard  of  all  that  is 
truly  good.  This  we  have  seen  in  all  past  history. 
Principle  has  been  sacrificed,  true  nobility  of  soul 
trodden  under  foot,  the  rights  of  man  disregarded, 
the  interests  of  the  undying  soul  placed  in  jeopardy, 
that  some  ambitious  tyrant  might  have  his  name 
recorded 

"  Among  the  few  immortal  ones, 
That  were  not  born  to  die." 

Wealth  has  been  sought  at  the  same  sacrifice,  and 
many  to  gain  it,  have  lost  all  that  is  really  valuable. 
Well  does  the  word  of  God  declare,  that  "  The  love 
of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil."  It  makes  the  rob- 
ber, the  gambler,  the  murderer.  It  leads  to  all  kinds 


144  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

of  crime  and  degradation.  A  "haste  to  be  rich," 
has  filled  the  world  with  dishonesty  and  fraud,  and 
plunged  many  into  eternity,  covered  with  the  foulest 
crimes.  Hence,  our  desires  on  this  point  cannot  be 
too  carefully  controlled.  An  inordinate  desire  to  se- 
cure the  applause  of  the  world,  will  lead  to  an  aban- 
donment of  the  great  principles  of  right  and  integrity. 
Under  the  present  constitution  of  things,  a  man  can- 
not be  universally  popular,  without  lowering  the  stan- 
dard of  his  character.  A  truly  good  man,  the  people 
are  not  yet  prepared  to  love.  Popular  opinion  is  di- 
vided, and  the  "baser  sort"  will  not  honor  a  man 
who  stands  up  against  their  crimes,  in  the  dignity  of 
a  pure  character.  Hence,  we  find  that  all  good  men 
have  their  enemies,  all  virtuous  men  their  opposers. 
Christ,  our  great  example,  was  called  "  Beelzebub," 
and  harsher  terms  have  been  applied  to  the  members 
of  his  household.  Consequently  the  great  temptation 
to  young  men  is,  to  relinquish  their  independence  of 
character,  bow  to  the  discordant  elements  which  are 
around  them,  and  purchase  at  such  a  price,  the  favor 
of  the  world.  This  is  especially  the  case  with  politi- 
cal men.  Communities  change  so  frequently,  that 
our  public  men  are  kept  turning  continually,  until  we 
scarcely  know  where  to  find  a  man,  who  has  become 
deeply  entangled  in  the  intricacies  of  party  politics. 

In  like  manner,  an  absorbing  desire  for  gold,  will 
lead  to  fatal  results.     He  who  is  determined  to  be 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  145 

rich  at  any  sacrifice,  who  places  wealth  before  him  as 
the  chief  aim  of  his  being,  will  soon  cease  to  hesitate 
in  regard  to  methods  of  securing  it.  If  he  cannot 
gam  it  by  lawful  industry,  he  will  resort  to  fraud 
and  deception,  crime  and  woe.  A  large  amount  of 
the  dishonesty  of  the  present  day,  may  be  traced  back 
to  the  love  of  money,  and  the  unscrupulous  means 
taken  to  secure  it.  Better  be  poor,  than  rich  at  the 
sacrifice  of  honesty.  Better  toil  day  and  night,  and 
eat  the  bread  of  poverty,  than  have  a  passion  for  gold 
which  will  corrupt  the  heart,  canker  the  soul,  and 
lead  to  the  commission  of  foul  and  horrid  crimes. 

"  Oh  cursed  love  of  gold ;  when  for  thy  sake 
The  fool  throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds  ; 
First  starved  in  this,  then  damn'd  in  that  to  come." 

4.  They  are  brief  as  human  life.  Were  we  on 
a  journey  through  a  strange  country,  and  stopping 
here  and  there,  only  for  a  night,  we  should  deem  our 
accommodations  of  small  importance ;  we  should  not 
think  of  fitting  up  in  a  costly  manner,  a  house  in  which 
we  should  remain  but  a  few  hours.  Human  life  is  a 
journey  through  a  strange  land.  Our  home  is  be- 
yond it,  far  away.  Each  object  we  behold  is  a 
monitor,  pointing  us  downward  to  the  grave  in  which 
our  ashes  will  soon  repose.  Is  it  not  vain,  then,  for 
us  to  give  our  whole  attention  to  wealth  and  fame  ? 
We  cannot  carry  them  with  us  into  the  grave.  The 
10 


146  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

rich  and  poor  are  alike  in  the  coffin,  and  all  the  fame 
of  earth  will  make  no  difference  in  the  world  to  which 
we  are  hastening.  I  have  read  of  a  man  who  was 
rich  on  earth.  He  fared  sumptuously  every  day. 
He  was  clothed  with  purple  and  fine  linen.  He  rode 
in  his  chariot.  He  reveled  in  wealth  and  splendor. 
But  death,  the  common  enemy,  visited  his  splendid 
abode,  and  hurried  him  away.  He  took  no  gold,  no 
silver,  with  him.  His  chariot  he  left  behind.  His 
magnificence,  pomp,  and  distinction,  were  ah1  of  the 
earth.  In  that  other  world,  he  was  miserably  poor. 
He  had  no  home.  On  the  waves  of  an  angry  sea  his 
soul,  was  tempest  driven.  He  had  no  pillow  but  the 
wave  of  fire,  and  in  vain  he  prayed  for  a  cup  of  water 
to  cool  his  parched  tongue.  I  have  read  of  another 
man,  who  sat  at  that  same  rich  man's  gate,  full  of 
sores,  and  covered  with  wounds.  He  was  poor,  very 
poor.  But  in  time,  he  died.  Angels  caught  his 
spirit,  and  carried  it  up  to  a  world  of  bliss.  All 
was  changed.  In  an  hour,  he  had  become  wealthy, 
honored,  and  supremely  blest.  There  is  an  anecdote 
circulating  widely  in  the  papers  of  the  day,  which 
although  old,  so  strikingly  illustrates  the  vanity  and 
brevity  of  wealth  and  fame,  that  I  will  give  it  in  the 
language  of  another :  "In  the  middle  of  the  eleventh 
century,  there  arose  a  Mohammedan  prince  in  Egypt, 
by  the  name  of  Saladin.  Ascending  the  throne  of 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  147 

the  ancient  Pharaohs,  and  guiding  the  Moslem  armies, 
he  rolled  back  the  tide  of  European  invasion,  with 
which  the  Crusaders  were  inundating  the  holy  land. 
His  legislative  genius  constituted  him  the  glory  of  his 
own  country,  while  his  military  exploits  inspired  Chris- 
tendom with  the  terror  of  his  arms.  The  wealth  of  the 
Orient  was  in  his  lap,  the  fate  of  millions  hung  upon 
his  lips,  and  one  half  of  the  world  was  at  his  disposal. 
"At  last  death,  the  common  conqueror  of  ah1,  came 
to  smite  the  crown  from  the  brow,  and  to  dash  the 
sceptre  of  this  mighty  monarch.  As  he  lay  upon  his 
dying  bed,  looking  back  upon  the  visions  of  earthly 
glory,  fast  flitting  away,  and  looking  forward  into 
the  impenetrable  future,  his  soul  was  overwhelmed 
with  those  emotions  which  must  under  such  circum- 
stances, agitate  the  bosom  of  every  thinking  being. 
For  a  long  time,  his  unbroken  silence,  indicated  the 
deep  absorption  of  his  thoughts,  by  the  new  subjects 
which  now  engrossed  his  spirit.  At  last,  rousing 
himself  from  his  reverie,  with  that  firm  voice  which 
ever  was  accustomed  to  be  obeyed,  he  said :  '  Pre- 
pare, and  bring  me  my  winding  sheet.'  It  was  im- 
mediately done,  as  commanded,  and  the  winding  sheet 
was  unfolded  before  him.  The  dying  Sultan  gazed 
upon  it,  long  and  silently,  and  then  added  :  '  Bring 
here  the  banner  around  which  my  chosen  guards  have 
rallied  in  my  victories.'  The  banner  was  presented 
at  the  royal  couch,  and  all  in  silence  awaited  the 


148  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

further  direction  of  the  monarch.  He  paused  a  mo- 
ment, and  said,  '  Remove  those  silken  folds,  and  at- 
tach to  the  staff  in  their  stead,  the  winding  sheet.' 
It  was  done  with  the  promptitude  with  which  the 
orders  of  the  Sultan  ever  were  obeyed.  The  dimmed 
eye  of  the  dying  monarch  gazed  upon  the  mournful 
emblem  of  mortality,  as  it  hung  from  the  staff  around 
which  he  had  rallied  his  legions  on  the  field  of  blood, 
and  added :  '  Let  the  crier,  accompanied  by  the  mu- 
sicians, in  a  funeral  dirge,  pass  through  all  the  streets 
of  Damascus,  and  at  every  corner,  wave  this  banner 
and  proclaim,  '  This  is  all  that  remains  to  the  mighty 
Saladin  /' 

"  Then  was  there  seen  such  a  procession,  as  the 
imperial  city  had  never  witnessed  before.  Gathered 
in  front  of  the  portals  of  the  palace  were  the  musi- 
cians, the  crier,  with  the  strange  banner,  and  the 
military  escort,  doing  homage  to  this  memorial  of 
death.  Silence  pervaded  the  thronged  city  as  the 
wailings  of  the  dirge  floated  mournfully  through  its 
long  streets.  The  crowds  in  silent  awe  gathered  at 
the  corners.  Suddenly  the  dirge  dies  away,  and  all 
is  still.  The  hearts  of  the  people  almost  cease  to 
beat,  as  the  cold  white  sheet,  soon  to  enshroud  their 
monarch's  limbs,  is  waved  before  them.  Not  a  sound 
disturbs  the  silent  city,  as  the  clear  voice  of  the  crier 
proclaimed,  *  This  is  all  that  remains  to  the  mighty 
Saladin  /'  Again  the  soul-moving  strains  of  the  re- 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  149 

quiem  vibrate  through  the  air,  and  the  procession 
moves  along  its  melancholy  way.  As  the  stars  came 
out  at  night,  the  spirit  of  the  monarch  took  its  flight, 
and  the  winding  sheet  enshrouded  his  limbs,  still  in 
death.  Seven  hundred  years  since  that,  have  rolled 
away,  and  what  now  remains  to  the  great  monarch  of 
the  East  ?  Not  even  a  handful  of  dust  can  tell  us, 
where  was  his  sepulchre." 

Look  young  friends,  over  the  earth,  and  witness 
the  pursuits  of  men.  See  how  they  chase  the  fan- 
torn  shapes,  which  the  god  of  this  world  sends,  but  to 
delude  and  destroy.  They  strive  for  fame.  They 
dig  for  gold.  And  how  long,  think  you,  it  will  be, 
ere  the  winding  sheet  will  be  all  that  remains  to  each 
of  them  ?  Let  them  fill  their  coffers,  let  them  secure 
the  applause  of  the  good  and  bad  of  earth,  let  them 
be  all  they  wish  to  be,  and  the  common  conqueror  will 
spoil  the  vision  in  an  hour.  How  wise  was  that  mon- 
arch, who  employed  a  page  to  remind  him,  at  certain 
hours  every  day,  that  he  was  but  a  man.  Wherever 
he  was,  under  whatever  circumstances,  surrounded 
by  his  court,  in  his  study,  or  in  the  feast-chamber 
amid  the  revelers,  the  page  whispered  in  his  master's 
ear,  "  Philip,  thou  art  mortal." 

Need  we  monitors  to  remind  us  of  this  ?  We  have 
them.  See  you,  that  star,  which  twinkles  and  goes 
out ;  the  sun  which  shines  awhile,  and  sinks  behind 
the  western  hills  ;  the  leaf  which  falls  when  autumn 


150  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

comes ;  the  shuttle,  the  cloud,  the  dew.  Daily, 
hourly,  they  whisper  in  our  ears,  "  Thou  art  mortal" 
And  shall  we  heed  the  warning  or  not  ?  Shall  we 
give  to  Vanity,  or  God,  our  noble  powers,  our  price- 
less time  ?  Shall  we  strive  to  be  honored  with  ap- 
plause which  will  die  away  ere  we  have  crumbled  to 
pieces  in  the  grave  ?  Shall  we  be  rich  only  in  the 
treasures  of  one  short  fleeting  life  ?  Shall  we  be 
among  those  who  despise  honest  toil,  and  imitate  the 
man, 

"  Who  lord  of  millions,  trembles  for  his  store, 
And  fears  to  give  a  farthing  to  the  poor ; 
Proclaims  that  penury  will  be  his  fate, 
And  scowling,  looks  on  charity  with  hate. 

No,  we  have  a  higher  calling.  The  acquisition  of 
property  is  not  the  great  end  of  our  being.  We  have 
been  formed  to  do  good  to  others,  and  act  a  holy 
part  in  the  reformation  of  mankind.  Around  this 
employment  hovers  a  true  dignity,  gathers  a  real 
splendor.  Riches  are  not  forever,  and  the  crown  will 
not  endure  to  all  generations,  but  the  glory  of  doing 
a  kind  and  lovely  act,  will  follow  us  beyond  the  sepul- 
chre ;  and  when  wealth  has  crumbled  around  our 
tomb,  and  fame  has  died  away  along  the  shores  of 
time,  the  solemn  employments  of  this  life  will  rise  up 
to  gladden  the  heart,  and  throw  a  charm  over  the 
pages  of  imperishable  memory.  Dig  not  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  for  that  which  is  truly  good,  but, 


WEALTH  AND   FAME.  151 

look  upward  to  thy  God  !  "With  him  all  is  pure,  no- 
ble, wise,  honorable,  while  all  beneath  the  skies  is 
vanity.  The  crown  will  fall  from  the  monarch's  head ; 
the  sceptre  will  drop  from  his  palsied  hand ;  the 
throne  will  crumble  and  decay ;  wealth  will  take  to 
itself  wings  and  fly  away ;  all  earth's  greatness  will 
perish,  and  the  king,  the  pampered  child  of  opulence, 
the  learned  philosopher,  the  senator,  the  priest,  the 
gifted  and  the  noble,  must  seek  shelter  in  a  narrow, 
dark,  loathsome  sepulchre.  Death  will  stand  unap- 
palled  before  the  man  at  whose  word  earth  turned 
pale ;  he  cares  not  for  royal  forms ;  he  will  not  be 
bribed  by  wealth. 

"  Earth's  highest  station  ends  in  '  here  he  lies,' 
And  dust  to  dust  concludes  her  noblest  song." 


LECTURE   VII. 

GAMBLING. 

IS  KOT  THY  WICKEDNESS  GREAT  ?  AND  THINE  INIQUITIES  IN- 
FINITE 1  FOR  THOU  HAST  TAKEN  A  PLEDGE  FROM  THT 
BROTHER  FOR  NOUGHT,  AND  STRIPPED  THE  WAKED  OF 
THEIR  CLOTHING.  —  Job  22:  5,  6. 

WHATEVER  may  have  been  the  peculiar  signifi- 
cance of  these  words,  as  used  by  Eliphaz  the  Te- 
manite,  we  shall  find  them  no  less  appropriate  when 
applied  to  gambling  and  the  gambler.  This  vice, 
which  I  propose  to  make  the  subject  of  discourse  this 
evening,  does  indeed  rob  the  naked  of  their  clothing, 
and  secures  the  pledge  without  rendering  an  equiva- 
lent. More  effectively  than  intemperance,  or  slavery, 
or  war,  it  cheats  its  victims,  and  destroys  their  souls. 
It  is  a  system  of  polite  robbery,  genteel  murder,  and 
fashionable  suicide. 

Gambling  consists  in  receiving  property  without 
rendering  a  just  equivalent.  Every  game  of  hazard, 
from  the  turning  coppers  of  the  ragged  urchin  by  the 


GAMBLING.  153 

• 

wayside,  to  the  stake  of  the  hoary  man,  who  lays  his 
whole  fortune  upon  the  table,  and  risks  it  all ;  from 
the  first  cast  of  the  novice,  to  the  game  by  which  the 
winner's  coffers  are  filled  in  one  hour,  is  gambling. 
From  the  insipid  game  of  the  jewelled  female,  to  the 
carousal  of  the  deformed,  misshapen  man ;  from  the 
parlor,  with  its  glittering  lamps,  its  sweet  music,  and 
its  lovely  occupants,  to  the  game  played  in  the  haunt 
of  woe,  where  an  old  wheelbarrow  answers  for  the  ta- 
ble, and  rude  blocks  for  chairs,  it  is  ah1  gambling. 
Lottery  prizes,  betting,  and  the  like  contrivances  to 
secure  property  without  earning  it,  are  all  included 
in  the  list  of  gambling  operations,  and  alike  deserve 
the  disapprobation  of  community. 

I  am  well  aware  that  many  men  who  stand  high  in 
society,  are  engaged  in  this  vice.  I  know  that  many 
buildings  which  rear  their  fronts  proudly,  in  our 
large  cities,  have  been  erected  or  purchased  with 
money  thus  obtained.  I  know  that  the  stock  of 
goods  in  many  a  store,  is  the  product  of  this  very 
crime.  But  does  this  fact  change  the  nature  of 
gambling  ?  Not  at  all.  Respectable  men  cannot 
make  it  a  respectable  vocation  ;  gold  has  no  trans- 
forming influence  over  it ;  silver  cannot  cover  its 
hideousness  ;  music  cannot  drown  its  wails  of  woe. 
Death  clatters  with  the  dice,  and  damnation  stares 
out  from  the  winner's  card.  All  the  efforts  which  are 
made  to  make  this  vice  attractive  to  the  virtuous  pop- 


154  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

tion  of  community,  only  renders  it  more  disgusting 
and  odious,  gives  it  new  features  of  hate  and  decep- 
tion, and  secures  for  it  the  name  of  fraud  and  corrup- 
tion. Indeed,  the  law  recognizes  gambling  as  a  crime, 
and  in  many  places  all  its  resorts  and  haunts,  are 
closed  by  the  officer  of  justice.  And  so  it  should  be. 
There  is  no  propriety  in  penetrating  the  cave  of  the 
midnight  robber,  the  hovel  of  the  forger,  the  den  of 
the  assassin,  and  dragging  them  away  to  the  halls  of 
justice,  while  the  gambling  saloons  of  our  large  cities 
are  left  to  do  their  work  of  destruction,  beggary,  and 
death.  There  is  no  propriety  in  condemning  and  im- 
prisoning the  poor  man,  who  in  the  urgency  of  the 
case,  steals  a  loaf  of  bread  to  feed  his  starving  wife 
and  children,  while  gambling,  which  is  a  wholesale 
system  of  theft,  is  left  to  impoverish  community  and 
destroy  the  characters  of  our  fellow-citizens.  To  in- 
duce you  to  loathe  and  abhor  this  vice,  I  will  now  of- 
fer upon  it,  a  few  remarks  to  which  I  request  your 
attention. 

1.  Gambling  is  a  monstrous  system  of  prodigality. 
Money  has  its  uses.  Properly  employed  it  is  like 
time  and  education,  a  blessing.  Rightly  used,  it  ena- 
bles us  to  do  good  and  become  extensively  useful  in 
the  world  around  us.  But  if  a  man  would  waste  a 
fortune,  let  him  become  a  gambler.  If  he  would  in 
the  shortest  tune,  scatter  the  earnings  of  years,  let 
him  resort  to  the  gay  saloon,  and  engage  in  games  of 


GAMBLING.  155 

chance,  and  drink  in  the  dear  delights  of  the  gam- 
bler's purgatory.  You  have  only  to  look  around  you, 
and  on  every  hand  will  present  themselves  to  your 
gaze,  the  wrecks  of  fortunes  w' jch  were  once  deemed 
inexhaustible.  You  have  only  to  go  out  into  society 
to  find  men  who  started  life  with  thousands  at  com- 
mand, but  who  have  now  no  home,  no  fortune,  no 
happiness.  The  gambler  inevitably  becomes  a  ruined 
man.  He  may  win  for  a  time,  he  may  fill  his  purse 
with  his  ill-gotten  gains,  but  the  unseen  hand  will 
sweep  them  away,  and  leave  him  penniless.  I  know 
that  men  begin  to  gamble  with  a  very  different 
opinion.  They  want  wealth,  and  deem  the  game  of 
chance  the  best  method  of  securing  it.  They  set  sail 
upon  the  sea  of  guilt  with  the  idea  of  becoming  rich 
without  labor  or  toil.  But  how  sadly  does  experience 
controvert  this  sentiment.  Gambling,  instead  of  be- 
ing the  royal  road  to  fortune,  proves  to  be  the  path 
to  houseless,  homeless  poverty.  Instead  of  being  the 
flower-blooming  way  to  affluence,  it  is  found  to  be  the 
thorn-planted  road  to  crime  and  disgrace.  I  am 
aware  that  men  are  found  here  and  there,  who  have 
riches  obtained  by  this  crime.  Some  live  and  die,  all 
surrounded  with  the  wealth  thus  gotten.  But  these 
are  the  exceptions  to  the  general  principle,  and  form 
no  argument  in  favor  of  such  crimes.  God  seems  to 
have  forgotten  them.  He  allows  them  to  go  on  in 
the  work  of  accumulation,  until  they  are  as  rich  as 


156  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

Dives,  with  hearts  as  hard  and  frozen  as  was  his. 
Poverty,  shame,  wretchedness,  are  the  almost  univer- 
sal results  of  gambling,  and  hundreds  and  thousands 
who  have  practised  it,  have  found  too  late,  their  fatal 
mistake.  Hence  when  we  see  a  young  man  begin- 
ning to  gamble,  we  may  set  him  down  as  two-thirds 
ruined.  If  he  be  a  merchant  or  a  tradesman,  you 
may  expect  erelong  to  hear  of  his  failure.  If  he  be 
a  mechanic,  or  a  lawyer,  or  a  physician,  you  may  cal- 
culate to  find  him  ere  many  years  are  gone,  in  a 
mad-house,  or  a  prison.  You  may  depend  upon  his 
ruin  with  almost  mathematical  certainty.  Like  a 
fearful  vortex,  which  swallows  up  every  vessel  which 
comes  within  the  influence  of  its  fatal  circles,  so  gam- 
bling will  swallow  up  every  fortune  upon  which  it  can 
fix  its  gorgon  eye,  or  lay  its  withering  hand.  Be  not 
deceived  !  Think  not  that  gold  will  fill  thy  purse  ! 
The  home  of  gambling  is  the  home  of  prodigality  and 
poverty,  where  men  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
roll  in  splendor,  learn  to  feed  on  husks,  and  bite  the 
dust  of  despair.  If,  therefore,  you  would  avoid 
failure  in  business,  poverty  in  your  family,  disgrace 
in  society,  and  misery  in  hell,  avoid  the  table  of  the 
gambler  as  you  would  the  den  of  villany. 

2.  Gambling  excites,  intoxicates,  and  maddens  the 
brain.  The  young  man  who  is  about  entering  upon 
the  practice  of  the  vice  which  we  are  discussing,  sup- 
poses that  he  has  perfect  control  over  himself,  and 


GAMBLING.  157 

can  leave  the  table  at  any  time,  stay  from  it  if  he 
wishes,  and  return  to  it  when  he  chooses.  But  this 
is  not  the  case.  The  gambler  is  not  his  own  man. 
When  once  he  has  entered  the  fatal  path,  he  is  im- 
pelled by  an  irresistible  impulse.  There  is  no  stop- 
ing-place.  Borne  onward  almost  unconsciously,  he 
loses  command  of  himself,  and  with  rapid  strides  has- 
tens to  his  own  ruin.  Frequently,  one  night  is  suffi- 
cient to  accomplish  the  work  of  destruction.  Let  us 
examine  the  process  for  a  moment.  A  young  man 
comes  to  our  large  cities  from  his  distant  home,  with 
a  few  hundred  dollars  in  his  pocket.  With  the  busy 
throng  of  living  beings,  he  has  no  acquaintance.  He 
spends  his  days  in  labor,  and  when  night  comes,  sighs 
for  some  congenial  spirits,  with  whom  he  may  asso- 
ciate. He  wanders  out  to  find  them.  The  church 
is  dark,  and  its  doors  are  closed.  The  hall  of  science 
rears  its  front,  but  no  living  orator  attracts  the  pass- 
ing crowd.  Everywhere,  his  ears  are  saluted  with 
deep  rumbling  sounds,  like  distant  thunder,  and  the 
lights  streaming  from  the  windows  of  the  gay  saloon, 
illuminate  the  night.  He  has  read  of  gambling  and 
crime.  He  has  nowhere  to  go,  and  looks  in  to  see 
if  what  he  has  heard  is  true.  Once  within  the  en- 
chanted chamber,  he  is  within  the  fatal  circles  of  the 
tempter.  In  the  foreground,  he  finds  the  card-players 
around  their  narrow  table,  and  in  the  rear  the  bowl- 
ing arrangement  in  full  tide  of  operation.  Beside  the 


158  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEITD. 

former,  he  sits  down.  With  intense  interest  he 
watches  the  play  as  it  proceeds,  and  at  length  joins 
in  it.  Awhile  the  sharps  allow  him  to  win.  This  is 
a  part  of  their  infernal  trade.  He  wins  again  and 
again.  Now  new  visions  flit  before  his  mind.  He 
has  been  accustomed  to  look  upon  wealth  as  the  re- 
sult of  years  of  toil ;  now  he  can  secure  it,  ere  morn- 
ing comes.  His  soul  is  on  fire.  He  is  dizzy  with  ex- 
citement. Already  he  fancies  himself  the  owner  of 
millions.  By  and  by  he  stakes  the  whole  sum  which 
he  brought  with  him,  to  invest  hi  business.  The 
practised  villains  see  that  it  is  no  use  to  dally  longer 
with  him.  They  commence  the  game,  and  ere  an 
hour  is  done,  the  young  fool  rises  from  the  table,  as 
poor  as  he  was  born  into  the  world.  He  rushes  to 
his  boarding-place,  in  a  state  of  mind  more  easily 
imagined  than  described.  The  next  day  beholds  him 
pale  and  haggard,  yet  fearfully  excited.  He  must 
win  back  what  he  has  lost.  He  borrows  ah1  he  can. 
and  loses  it.  Soon  he  begins  to  steal.  He  does  not 
mean  to  be  a  thief,  but  he  must  win  his  money  back. 
The  road  to  detection  and  imprisonment  is  short.  A 
single  year  is  often  found  sufficient  to  corrupt  the 
purest  mind,  and  leave  a  complete  wreck  of  human 
character.  The  fearful  excitement  ruins  both  the 
body  and  the  mind,  and  leaves  a  man,  the  fairest  por- 
trait of  human  misery.  Think  not,  that  you  can  pan- 
der with  the  vice  and  remain  unharmed  !  Think  not, 


GAMBLING.  159 

that  you  can  engage  in  it,  and  retire  from  its  scenes, 
when  you  will !  A  few  games  will  excite  passions 
which  no  argument  can  subdue,  no  logic  convince. 
The  strongest  mind  will  be  turned  by  it,  and  the 
purest  character,  it  will  eventually  ruin.  The  con- 
firmed gambler  presents  us  with  a  pitiable  spectacle. 
His  nerves  all  unstrung,  in  many  cases  his  body 
crushed,  and  his  look  wild  and  fearful,  and  his  mind 
like  a  disordered  machine,  racking  and  crushing  itself 
to  pieces,  and  spending  its  energies  for  its  own  de- 
struction. 

3.  G-amUing  is  the  highway  to  idleness.  Man  was 
made  for  industry.  God  has  formed  him  for  labor 
and  toil.  He  has  endowed  him  with  powers  of  body 
and  mind,  which  will  fit  him  to  accomplish  much 
good  in  the  few  years  of  his  earthly  span.  Moreover, 
God  seems  to  have  given  us  an  aversion  to  idleness, 
and  to  the  idler,  and  no  person  in  the  community, 
is  so  little  respected  as  a  lazy,  indolent,  young 
man.  But  gambling  is  the  parent  of  idleness,  and 
has  been  the  means  of  converting  many  a  well-dis- 
posed and  industrious  youth,  into  an  idle,  lazy  vaga- 
bond. It  first  teaches  the  young  man  that  labor  is 
disreputable  for  men  of  wit  and  sense,  that  it  will  do 
well  enough  for  slaves  and  ignorant  persons,  who 
have  no  skill  and  genius,  that  men  of  refined  man- 
ners, and  intelligent,  polished  habits,  ought  not  to  be 
required  to  dig,  and  tug,  and  strive.  It  next  pre- 


160  THE   YOUNG  HAN'S   FRIEND. 

sents,  the  folly  of  working  hard  all  day,  and  perhaps 
all  night,  for  what  can  be  secured  in  a  single  game. 
In  this  manner  it  takes  the  attention  from  pursuits 
of  business  and  industry,  and  congregates  its  subjects 
in  saloons  and  cellars,  where  they  can  play  at  night, 
and  lounge,  and  smoke,  and  curse,  and  sleep,  during 
the  day.  It  creates  an  uneasiness,  a  fickleness,  a 
discontent  with  one's  employment  and  pursuits,  and 
breaks  up  all  regular  business  habits.  It  is  not  com- 
mon for  a  professional  gambler  to  be  an  industrious 
man.  His  trade  is  a  kind  of  system  of  lazy  vaga- 
bondage, and  renders  him  physically,  mentally,  and 
morally  unfit  for  any  useful  pursuit.  Go  into  a  gam- 
bling room  in  the  daytime,  and  you  will  find  a  score 
of  dissipated  fellows  congregated  there.  At  a  time, 
when  the  trader  is  in  his  store,  the  laborer  at  his 
toil,  the  mechanic  in  his  workshop,  these  knights  of 
the  bar  are  engaged  in  lounging  on  cushioned  seats, 
reading  low  publications,  uttering  blasphemous  jokes, 
and  drinking  the  sparkling  wine,  like  gentlemen.  Oc- 
casionally they  will  come  forth  to  the  light  of  day, 
looking  like  demons  reeling  up  from  the  bottomless 
pit,  and  staggering  to  their  homes,  to  abuse  a  wife,  or 
dash  to  the  earth  a  child,  who  comes  to  twine  its  little 
arms  around  the  father's  form.  For  the  purpose  of 
gambling,  they  have  money  enough,  but  for  the  wants 
of  the  family,  to  clothe  the  wife  or  feed  the  child, 
they  have  none.  They  will  work  all  night  casting 


GAMBLING.  161 

the  polished  ball,  but  will  shun  the  hammer  as  if  it 
was  a  viper,  the  pen  as  if  it  was  a  fiery  serpent. 
To  just  such  an  extent,  as  a  man  becomes  a  gambler, 
does  he  also  become  an  idle,  useless,  lazj  spendthrift. 
This  is  plain  language,  but  as  true  as  plain.  All  past 
experience  and  observation  teach  it,  and  you  have 
only  to  follow  out  the  gamblers  in  any  community,  to 
have  it  fully  and  painfully  confirmed. 

4.  G-amUing  is  a  system  of  falsehood.  Truth  is 
one  of  the  loveliest  of  the  virtues.  The  man  of  truth 
is  an  estimable  character.  Truthfulness  consists,  not 
simply,  in  always  avoiding  direct  falsehood,  but  in  an 
upright,  consistent  course  of  action.  There  is  the  lie 
of  the  hand,  as  well  as  the  lie  of  the  lip.  Sometimes 
a  look  conveys  a  lie ;  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  or  a 
shake  of  the  fingei  consitute,  not  unfrequently,  the 
greatest  falsehoods.  A  man  of  truth  is  one,  who  is 
open  in  all  his  dealings ;  there  will  be  no  trickery,  no 
double-dealing,  no  insinuations.  His  lips  and  his  con- 
duct will  agree  with  each  other.  He  will  not  be  plea- 
sant and  fair  in  your  presence,  and  plunge  a  dagger 
to  your  heart  when  your  face  is  averted.  He  will  not 
utter  smooth  compliments  when  you  are  listening,  and 
when  you  are  gone,  sting  your  reputation  with  the 
poison  of  asps.  Unused  to  deception,  he  will  not  sus- 
pect it  in  others,  but  will  act  towards  his  fellow-men  on 
principles  of  open,  candid  honesty.  But  gambling  is 
entirely  opposed  to  truth.  In  itself,  it  is  a  lie,  its 
11 


162  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

promises  are  hollow  and  deceptive,  its  pleasures  false 
and  fleeting.  It  is  carried  on  by  falsehood.  From 
the  verj  nature  of  the  case,  the  gambler  cannot  be  a 
man  of  truth.  When  he  sits  down  to  play,  he  sits 
down  to  lie  ;  the  play  is  a  falsehood,  and  the  gambler 
has  forfeited  his  character  for  truth,  to  just  the  extent 
that  he  has  become  involved  in  the  web-work  of  this 
vice.  The  skill  exercised  by  the  gambler  is  not  like 
the  skill  of  the  lawyer,  in  an  eloquent  argument ;  not 
like  the  skill  of  the  mechanic,  who  performs  a  difficult 
piece  of  work ;  not  like  the  skill  of  the  trader,  who 
displays  his  goods  to  the  best  advantage.  The  genius 
of  the  gambler,  is  a  genius  for  deception  ;  his  skill,  is 
a  skill  to  cheat.  The  very  tendency  of  the  crime  is 
to  unbend  the  character  from  its  integrity,  and  lead 
up  the  young  to  crime  of  open  and  damning  character. 
A  gentleman  of  this  congregation  remarked  to  me 
awhile  since,  "  that  upon  inquiry  at  one  of  our  houses 
of  reformation,  it  was  found  that  nine-tenths  of  the 
boys  who  had  been  placed  there,  had  been  employed 
previous  to  their  confinement,  in  tending  and  doing 
little  errands,  and  setting  up  the  pins,  for  gentlemen, 
in  gambling  saloons."  These  places  not  only  corrupt 
the  men  Avho  congregate  in  them,  but  they  are  train- 
ing up  a  class  of  boys  to  dishonest  and  fraudulent 
practices,  and  making  them  at  the  outset  of  life,  dip 
honest  and  corrupt. 

5,  It,  is  a  system  of  wholesale  theft.     I  know  that 


GAMBLING.  163 

it  is  not  what  is  usually  denominated  theft,  but  though 
called  by  another  name,  it  is  no  less  really  that 
crime.  Without  giving  any  equivalent,  the  property 
of  another  is  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the  winner, 
and  though  the  involuntary  consent  of  the  loser  may 
be  given,  it  is  against  his  wishes  and  will.  This 
the  fortunate  party  knows,  and  when  he  sweeps  the 
stakes  into  his  own  pockets,  he  has  evidence  that  his 
opponent  bitterly  regrets  it,  and  would  keep  his 
money,  if  he  had  the  ability  to  win  it  back  again. 
Notwithstanding  this  knowledge,  the  gambler  will  sit 
down  to  the  table,  and  coolly  win  the  last  dollar  which 
the  hapless  victim  may  possess.  It  may  be  said,  that 
the  loser  is  aware  of  all  this,  and  ought  not  to  play  if 
he  does  not  wish  to  lose.  True,  but  should  the 
maniac  barter  his  farm  away  for  a  copper  cent,  or, 
the  idiot  sell  his  valuable  house  for  a  handful  of  silver ; 
would  the  law,  would  public  opinion  justify  the  sharper 
who  had  made  the  bargain  ?  Would  not  every  honest 
man  look  upon  this  transaction  of  the  villain,  as  base 
fraud  and  gross  dishonesty?  Would  they  not  cry 
out  against  the  wrong,  and  demand  the  punishment 
of  the  offender  ?  Now  the  young  man  who  is  just 
beginning  to  gamble,  is  insane.  He  may  have  his 
reason  on  other  subjects,  but  on  this  he  is  deluded 
and  intoxicated.  The  mad  excitement  has  turned 
his  brain,  and  set  his  soul  on  fire.  And  thus  he  will 
continue,  until  like  the  professional  gambler,  his  heart 


164  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

is  burnt  to  ashes,  or  petrified  to  flint.  He  will  con 
tinue  a  monomaniac  until  conscience  is  gone. 

And  by  what  name  shall  we  call  the  man,  whose 
soul  is  too  dead  to  feel,  and  who  deliberately  sita 
down  to  secure  by  trickery  and  deception,  the  money 
of  his  excited,  insane  neighbor  ?  What  name  shall 
we  give  to  the  crime  which  he  commits  ?  Before 
God,  that  man  is  a  robber ;  his  crime  is  robbery. 
He  appropriates  to  his  own  use,  the  property  of 
another,  and  gives  him  no  equivalent.  He  wrongs 
and  abuses  the  poor  dupe  of  his  villany,  and  leaves 
him  without  remorse,  to  hunger  or  thirst,  live  or  die. 

But  the  victim  himself  is  not  the  only  sufferer. 
Frequently  young  men  who  have  amiable  and  virtuous 
families,  practice  this  vice.  They  by  some  unfortu- 
nate combination  of  circumstances,  become  entangled 
in  the  net  of  the  seducer,  and  leaving  their  families 
night  after  night,  resort  to  the  den  of  infamy,  there 
to  win  or  lose,  amid  the  fumes  of  brandy,  and  the 
sound  of  cursing.  Sometimes  these  young  men  lose 
their  all;  they  stake  it  in  some  unfortunate  game, 
and  see  it  swept  into  the  pockets  of  a  competitor. 
Enraged  and  drunken,  each  one  returns  to  his  family. 
The  children  see  him  come,  and  cry  for  bread.  The 
wife  points  to  her  famishing  little  ones,  and  beseeches 
him  to  secure  them  food.  With  all  a  woman's  ear- 
nestness, she  pleads  for  money  enough  to  buy  a  single 
garment  to  cover  their  freezing  limbs.  What  shall 


GAMBLING.  165 

he  tell  her  ?  What  reply  shall  be  given  those  hungry 
children,  as  they  cry  for  BREAD.  Why,  that  a  god- 
less wretch  met  him  in  the  abodes  of  woe,  and 
•wronged  him,  cheated  him,  robbed  him  of  all ;  left 
him  a  beggar,  and  sent  him  home  without  a  shilling 
in  his  pocket,  to  see  his  children  starve — their  mother 
die.  The  gambler  who  has  won,  has  not  stolen  money 
from  the  pocket  of  his  victim  only,  but  bread,  bread, 
BREAD,  from  the  mouths  of  his  wife  and  children.  If 
a  man  comes  into  my  house  at  night,  and  takes  a  sin- 
gle article,  it  may  be  a  loaf  of  bread  from  the  larder, 
or  an  armful  of  wood  from  the  pile,  the  officers  of  jus- 
tice will  pursue  him,  and  if  taken,  he  will  suffer  im- 
prisonment. But  the  gambler  may  steal  the  bread 
from  a  hundred  families,  and  leave  them  in  the  shiv- 
ering time  of  winter  without  fire,  without  clothing, 
without  food,  and  yet  he  is  allowed  to  walk  the  streets, 
and  move  among  men,  as  if  he  was  as  virtuous  as  an 
angel.  You  have  only  to  converse  with  men  who  are 
familiar  with  this  subject,  to  learn  that  it  is  a  whole- 
sale system  of  theft  and  dishonesty.  Reformed  gam- 
blers will  tell  you  tales  of  sorrow  which  will  melt 
your  heart.  They  will  describe  to  you  the  strength, 
the  fearful  power  of  the  strange,  unnatural  excite- 
ment, when  once  it  has  obtained  dominion.  They 
will  declare  to  you  that  family  Bibles  have  been 
pawned  to  secure  money  to  play  with ;  that  the 
clothing  of  children,  has  in  some  cases,  been  stolen 


166  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

from  the  wardrobe,  and  staked  upon  the  issue  of  the 
game  ;  that  the  ring  which  was  placed  upon  the  fin- 
ger of  the  wife,  on  the  day  of  marriage,  has  been  torn 
from  her,  and  gambled  away.  A  case  occurred 
awhile  since,  within  the  limits  of  our  own  city,  of  this 
revolting  character.  Two  little  children  had  been 
clothed  for  the  Sabbath  School,  by  the  hand  of  chari- 
ty. Some,  who  now  hear  me,  assisted  in  the  Avork. 
Blind  hands  fitted  and  made  the  garments,  and  in  duo 
season  the  children  appeared  in  the  house  of  God. 
Three  Sabbaths  came  and  passed  away.  Ere  the 
fourth  had  arrived,  the  father  of  those  children  took 
their  warm,  comfortable  garments,  and  by  relating  a 
plausible  story  to  one  of  his  neighbors,  succeeded  in 
selling  tham.  The  money  was  taken  to  the  saloon  of 
a  man  who  lives  in  affluence,  and  there  lost  in  gam- 
bling. A  few  days  after,  I  met  the  little  boy  in  the 
street,  and  when  questioned,  he  related  to  me  the 
fact  which  I  have  now  given,  and  which  was  subse- 
quently confirmed  by  the  mother,  and  even  by  the 
wretched  father,  with  whom  I  had  a  conversation. 
Could  I  bring  that  little  child,  and  induce  him  to  tell 
you  his  tale  of  woe,  as  he  told  it  to  me,  on  the  side- 
walk of  the  bleak  street,  you  would  need  no  further 
appeal  upon  this  subject. 

6.  G-ambling  nullifies  the  marriage  relation,  and 
introduces  disorder  and  confusion  into  families. 
Home  is  the  seat  of  domestic  felicity.  If  home  is 


GAMBLING.  167 

what  it  may  be,  and  what  it  often  is,  the  relations  of 
husband  and  wife,  parent  and  child,  are  full  of  sacred 
pleasure.  If  home  is  not  what  it  should  be,  these  re- 
lations will  fail  to  confer  that  pleasure  which  God 
has  ordained,  and  which  under  proper  circumstances 
will  proceed  from  them.  Now  one  view  at  gambling 
will  suffice  to  convince  you,  that  it  strikes  a  blow  at 
domestic  bliss.  It  allures  the  husband  from  his 
home  until  a  late  hour  at  night,  and  returns  him  to  it, 
excited  with  wine,  and  maddened  at  his  losses.  In 
the  saloon,  and  in  the  street,  he  dare  not  vent  his 
rage,  and  he  goes  into  his  family,  to  the  spot,  which 
of  all  others,  should  be  most  free  from  harsh  words 
and  angry  looks,  there  to  act  out  what  during  tho 
evening  he  has  not  ventured  to  develop.  On  his  poor 
wife  and  child,  the  storm  of  his  vengeance  bursts  with 
terrific  fury,  and  threats  and  blows  reply  to  the  mild 
request  for  food  and  raiment.  I  scarcely  know  of  a 
more  fearful  frame  of  mind,  than  that  which  the  gam- 
bler has,  as  he  returns  to  his  family  after  a  night  of 
debauchery,  his  property  gone,  his  head  aching  and 
throbbing,  his  heart  bursting  with  its  own  anguish. 
His  wife  may  receive  him  with  kindness,  his  children, 
bright-eyed  boys  and  girls  may  cluster  around  him  as 
he  enters,  but  he  has  no  inclination  to  return  their 
kindness,  and  he  stalks  through  his  dwelling,  venting 
his  indignation  alike  upon  God  and  man. 

7.   G-aming  leads  to  intemperance.     Crime  never 


168  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

goes  singly  and  alone.  Seldom  do  we  find  a  man, 
who  lives  in  the  habitual  practice  of  one  vice,  and  of 
no  other.  A  man  who  will  swear  profanely,  will  gen- 
erally cheat ;  if  he  will  cheat,  he  will  steal,  and  com- 
mit forgery ;  if  he  will  do  these  deeds  of  darkness,  he 
will  gamble,  get  drunk,  and  perhaps,  if  occasion  re- 
quires will  commit  murder.  The  same  disposition  and 
state  of  heart  which  leads  to  one  of  these  crimes  will, 
if  not  vigorously  controlled,  lead  to  the  whole.  Our 
sins  are  like  the  links  of  one  great  chain,  and  are  to 
a  considerable  extent  inseparable.  Between  gam- 
bling and  intemperance,  there  is  a  direct  connection. 
A  man  must  drink,  and  become  half  drunken,  ere  he 
can  play  with  skill ;  the  wine-cup  must  sharpen  his 
wits.  Before  he  begins  to  drink,  he  is  cautious,  hesi- 
tates, and  considers,  ere  he  lays  his  money  on  the 
table.  He  plays  with  an  unsteady  hand,  and  thinks 
of  home.  The  intoxicating  cup  must  be  used  to  drive 
away  these  feelings  ;  to  check  the  rising  emotions  of 
affection  for  his  family ;  to  drown  the  voice  of  reason, 
and  make  him  desperate.  Then  when  he  is  half 
drunken,  when  he  has  become  half  dead,  he  is  fit  to 
play ;  then  can  he  pledge  without  hesitating,  the  bit 
of  crust  which  his  child  must  eat  or  starve  ;  then  can 
he  stake  the  hat  upon  his  head,  the  shoes  upon  his 
feet,  the  family  Bible,  and  the  family  itself. 

When  the  game  is  over,  and  the  excitement  has 
passed  away,  he  must  drink  again  to  invigorate  his 


GAMBLING.  169 

system,  to  restore  his  energies,  to  quiet  his  nerves, 
and  make  his  heart  strong  for  another  revel.  This 
matter  seems  to  be  perfectly  understood  by  the 
keepers  of  gambling  houses.  Hence,  they  always 
have  a  bar,  at  or  near  their  den  of  crime.  Gambling 
cannot  be  supported  without  drink,  and  we  conse- 
quently find  the  saloon  and  the  rum-shop,  side  by 
side.  When  the  poor  victim  sees  his  hard  earnings 
swept  into  the  pockets  of  the  practised  villain  with 
whom  he  plays,  when  he  remembers  his  poor  aged 
parents  whom  he  is  bound  by  every  holy  tie  to  sup- 
port, conscience  will  begin  to  work,  and  if  he  has 
strength  enough  he  will  resolve  to  return  to  his  home. 
At  such  a  moment,  the  maddening  bowl  must  be  used. 
The  beverage  of  hell  must  be  placed  to  his  lips,  and 
in  the  excitement  which  it  occasions,  all  holy  thoughts, 
all  sacred  associations  must  be  crowded  out  of  sight, 
until  his  last  dollar  is  staked,  and  the  poor  wretch  is 
driven  to  madness,  and  perhaps  to  suicide. 

8.  Gambling  deadens  the  Jieart  and  destroys  all 
Tdnd  and  tender  feelings.  Common,  ordinary  theft 
and  dishonesty  do  not  do  this,  to  any  such  extent 
as  gambling.  A  man  may  steal  a  purse  from  the 
pocket  of  a  stranger,  and  yet  love  his  family.  He 
may  cheat  in  business,  defraud  every  customer,  and 
return  to  his  home  with  real  affection.  But  a  con- 
firmed gambler,  really  loves  no  one,  in  heaven  or  on 
earth.  Father,  mother,  brother,  sister,  wife,  child, 


170  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

are  alike  odious,  and  uncared  for.  The  tender  ties 
which  bind  other  families  in  one  holy  band,  are 
severed,  and  when  gambling  has  become  an  absorb- 
ing passion,  home  has  no  attraction,  and  friends  no 
influence. 

It  may  be  supposed,  that  I  am  using  language 
stronger  than  the  case  will  bear ;  that  my  views  of 
gambling  arise  from  an  ignorance  of  the  real  feelings 
of  those  who  are  engaged  in  the  practice  of  the  vice. 
But  if  I  am  deceived,  I  am  not  alone  in  it.  Some  of 
our  oldest,  best,  and  most  experienced  men,  have 
come  to  the  same  conclusion.  The  opinion  of  the  vir- 
tuous community  was  expressed  long  ago,  and  gam- 
bling has  been  considered  a  crime,  among  Christians, 
ever  since  the  days  of  our  divine  Saviour.  In  all 
ages  it  has  had  the  same  hardening,  degrading  ten- 
dency. In  every  clime  it  has  been  fraught  with  cor- 
ruption and  sorrow,  and  from  the  time  when  the  mur- 
derers of  Christ  sat  down  beneath  the  cross,  to  gam- 
ble for  his  garments,  until  now,  it  has  had  the  same 
tendency  to  corrupt  human  nature,  and  chill  the  heart 
to  all  lovely  and  pure  emotions.  That  it  may  be 
seen  that  I  am  not  alone  in  this  opinion,  let  me  in- 
troduce the  statements  of  men  of  more  age,  wisdom, 
experience,  and  goodness,  than  myself,  confirming  the 
same  statement.  One  writer*  says,  "  The  finished 
gambler  has  no  heart ;  he  would  play  at  his  brother's 
*  Kev.  Dr.  Nott. 


GAMBLING.  171 

funeral ;  he  would  gamble  upon  his  mother's  coffin." 
Another*  declares  that,  "  Gambling  palsies  the  heart, 
and  so  effectually  silences  the  voice  of  conscience, 
that  a  man  can  commit  any  crime  and  feel  no  re- 
morse." Says  another,!  "  Not  long  since,  a  young 
man  acknowledged  to  me,  in  the  greatest  anguish  of 
mind,  that  drinking  and  gambling,  into  both  of  -which 
he  fell  in  college,  had  almost  accomplished  his  tem- 
poral and  eternal  ruin.  There  are,  in  every  place  of 
considerable  size,  fiends  in  human  form,  who  are  ever 
on  the  alert  to  entice  young  men  into  these  practices, 
that  they  may  increase  their  miserable  gain  by  the 
destruction  of  soul  and  body."  Another,^:  speaking 
of  the  gambler,  says,  "  As  he  walks  the  streets,  child- 
hood should  flee  in  terror  at  his  approach ;  uncon- 
taminated  youth  should  hide  from  the  very  sight  of 
him ;  the  maiden — her  brow  now  blanched  with  fear, 
and  now  suffused  with  indignation  —  should  spurn 
him  from  her  path;  honest  manhood  should  shrink 
from  contact  with  the  basest  of  the  species  ;  and  old 
age,  leaning  on  its  staff,  too  feeble  to  turn  aside  for 
refuge,  should  lift  its  eyes  to  heaven,  to  be  delivered 
from  a  "contamination  more  foul  than  the  grave.  The 
gambler  should  be  made  to  feel  that  he  is  a  marked 
man ;  that  in  earth's  homes,  and  in  earth's  hearts 
there  is  no  place  for  him ;  that  on  his  habitation 

*  Horace  Walpole.  t  Rev.  William  W.  Pattern. 

}  Eev.  Joseph  W.  Thompson,  D.D. 


172  THE  TOTJNG  MA^S  FRIEND. 


is    written    "hell"   and    on    his    brow   is   written 
"  fiend  r 

Another*  says,  "  After  hearing  many  of  the  scenes 
not  unfamiliar  to  every  gambler,  I  think  Satan  might 
be  proud  of  their  dealings,  and  look  up  to  them  with 
that  deferential  respect,  with  which  one  monster  gazes 
upon  a  superior.  There  is  not  even  the  expectation  of 
honesty.  Some  scullion-herald  of  iniquity  decoys  the 
unwary  wretch  into  the  secret  room  ;  he  is  tempted  to 
drink  ;  made  confident  by  the  specious  simplicity  of  the 
game  ;  allowed  to  win  ;  and  every  lure,  and  bait,  and 
blind  is  employed  —  then  he  is  plucked  to  the  skin 
by  tricks  which  appear  as  fair  as  honesty  itself.  The 
robber  avows  his  deed,  does  it  openly  ;  the  gambler 
sneaks  to  the  same  result  under  skulking  pretences. 
There  is  a  frank  way,  and  a  mean  way  of  doing  a 
wicked  thing.  The  gambler  takes  the  meanest  way 
of  doing  the  dirtiest  deed.  The  victim's  own  partner 
is  sucking  his  blood  ;  it  is  a  league  of  sharpers  to  get 
his  money  at  any  rate  ;  and  the  wickedness  is  so  un- 
blushing, that  it  gives,  at  last,  an  instance  of  what 
the  deceitful  human  heart,  knavish  as  it  is,  is  ashamed 
to  try  to  cover  or  conceal  ;  but  confesses,  with  help- 
less honesty,  that  it  is  fraud,  cheating,  stealing,  rob- 
lery,  and  nothing  else."  The  same  writer  elsewhere 
remarks,  "  When  playing  becomes  desperate  gam- 
bling, the  heart  is  a  hearth  where  all  the  fires  of 
*  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher. 


GAMBLING.  173 

gentle  feelings  have  smouldered  to  ashes ;  and  a 
thorough-paced  gamester  could  rattle  dice  in  a  char- 
nel-house, and  wrangle  for  his  stakes  amid  murder, 
and  pocket  gold  dripping  with  the  blood  of  his  own 
kindred." 

I  have  but  little  more  to  say  upon  this  topic.  I 
hope  I  have  convinced  you  of  the  folly  of  gambling, 
and  led  your  minds  to  such  an  abhorrence  of  the 
crime,  as  Avill  in  after  life,  shield  you,  by  God's 
blessing,  from  its  terrific  evils.  I  have  used  strong 
language,  but  not  stronger  than  the  subject  demands ; 
and  if  there  are  any  present,  who  have  become  in- 
volved deeply  in  this  passion,  they  can  attest  the 
truth  of  my  statements.  Go  from  this  house  to-night, 
my  young  friends,  with  a  determined  hostility  to  all 
gambling  operations.  Remember,  that  they  are  de- 
vised to  steal  your  money,  blast  your  character,  and 
ruin  your  soul.  Remember,  that  those  who  habitually 
assemble  in  salo/ms  appropriated  to  these  purposes, 
are  generally  knaves.  As  says  the  poet : 

"  Whene'er  the  gaming-board  is  set, 
Two  classes  of  mankind  are  met ; 
But  if  we  count  the  greedy  race, 
The  knaves  fill  up  the  greater  space."    • 

Beware,  lest  you  be  deceived.  Gambling  is  a  system 
of  falsehood.  It  will  promise  you  a  fortune  in  an 
hour  —  wealth  in  abundance  —  happiness,  without 
mixture  of  sorrow.  But  none  of  them,  does  it  confer. 


174  .  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

When  the  inquisition  house,  at  Madrid,  was  de- 
stroyed by  order  of  Napoleon,  the  commanding  officer 
found  an  image  of  a  beautiful  virgin.  The  workman- 
ship was  most  perfect,  its  proportions  were  correct, 
and  beauty  rested  on  each  chiseled  feature.  This 
image  was  an  instrument  of  torture.  The  victim  was 
commanded  to  go  up  and  embrace  the  virgin,  and  as 
he  placed  his  bosom  against  the  cold  bosom  of  the 
statue,  and  his  lips  against  the  cold  lips  of  the  mar- 
ble, a  spring  was  touched,  an  internal  machine  was 
set  in  motion,  and  the  arms  of  the  virgin  filled  with 
sharp  daggers,  arose  and  encircled  the  poor  sufferer, 
and  cutting  into  his  flesh,  mangled  him  in  a  most  hor- 
rid manner,  and  destroyed  his  life.  .  Gambling  is 
such  an  image.  It  looks  well  at  a  distance,  but  it  is 
armed  with  knives  which  will  cut,  not  only  the  body 
but  the  soul.  Fly  from  the  gambler's  house,  as  from 
the  door  of  death.  Fly  from  the  gambler  himself. 
He  will  strive  to  ruin  thee.  Poison  is  in  his  heart, 
and  falsehood  on  his  tongue.  He  seeks  thy  ruin. 

"  Beware  of  yonder  dog ; 

Look,  when  he  fawns,  he  bites  ;  and  -when  he  bites, 
His  venom  teeth  will  rankle  to  the  death ; 
Hate  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him, 
Sin,  death,  and  hell,  have  set  their  marks  on  him 
And  all  their  ministers  attend  him." 


LECTURE   VIII. 

INTEMPERANCE. 

AT   THE   LAST  IT  BITETH   LIKE  A  SERPENT,  AND  STINGETH  LIKB 

AN  ADDER.  —  Proverbs  23:  32. 

INTEMPERANCE,  like  other  vices,  is  deceitful  and 
seductive.  It  frequently  presents  a  beautiful  exte- 
rior, while  within  it  is  all  corruption,  and  as  loathsome 
as  a  sepulchre,  full  of  dead  men's  bones.  Youth  is 
charmed  and  cheated  by  it,  and  old  age,  it  often 
covers  with  shame  and  disgrace. 

You  have  seen  a  calm  cloud  appear  in  the  heavens 
in  a  clear  day  in  summer.  At  a  distance  it  looked 
beautiful.  Its  shining  edges  glittered  with  delusive 
splendor,  and  it  moved  up  the  sky  as  majestically  as 
the  chariot  of  Jehovah.  As  it  approached,  the  beau- 
ty disappeared ;  on  man  below,  it  cast  dark,  threat- 
fcning  glances ;  the  golden  fringes  vomited  forth  fork- 
ed lightning  ;  and  what  afar,  seemed  mellow  music, 
was  soon  found  to  be  harsh  and  terrific  thunder. 
Soon  the  tempest  was  abroad  on  earth.  The  beasts 


176  THE  YOUNG   MAN'S  FRIEND. 

of  the  field  fled  for  shelter  to  the  shadow  of  the  high 
rock;  the  yellow  harvest  of  the  husbandman  was 
swept  away,  and  man  himself  fled,  a  fugitive  before 
the  storm. 

Intemperance  is  like  that  cloud  !  It  promises  shel- 
ter and  shade  to  the  thirsty  spirit,  but  soon  bursts 
upon  human  life  with  all  the  fury  of  the  tempest.  It 
sends  its  blast  and  sweeps  its  tide,  into  the  domestic 
retreat,  across  tribunals  of  justice,  and  up  to  the  very 
altars  of  the  church  of  God. 

You  have  seen  a  serpent  winding  himself  noiselessly 
through  a  bed  of  flowers,  and  anon  lifting  his  crested 
head  above  the  foliage,  and  sporting  himself  with  many 
a  gambol.  You  have  admired  his  beauty,  agility,  and 
strength,  and  watched  his  movements  with  intense  de- 
light. Even  the  wild  flowers  which  bloomed  in  his 
path,  seemed  to  bend  forward  to  kiss  his  beautiful  form, 
and  he  in  return  moved  aside,  lest  he  should  crush 
the  fragile  things,  and  scatter  their  tiny  leaves.  As 
you  gazed,  a  mother  and  her  child  came  on,  and 
stooped  to  pluck  those  flowers.  Then  was  the  fero- 
cious nature  of  the  monster  developed.  Around  those 
shrinking  forms  he  coiled  himself,  and  with  a  hissing 
sound  struck  them  with  his  fangs.  Crushed  and 
wounded,  the  child  and  mother  were  left  to  die,  while 
the  splendid  monster  moved  away,  and  was  soon  lost 
from  view  in  the  dense  forest. 

Intemperance  is  such  a  serpent !    To  youth  it  pre- 


INTEMPERANCE.  17T 

sents  a  beautiful  exterior.  The  wine  sparkles  in  the 
cup,  and  the  gay  festival  attracts  the  unthinking 
throng.  "  At  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent,  and 
stingeth  like  an  adder."  Within  its  coil  the  victim 
groans  and  writhes  in  agony,  until  the  poison,  like 
boiling  blbod,  flows  through  all  his  veins,  reaching  his 
brain  and  setting  his  soul  on  fire. 

You  have  seen  the  ocean  calm  and  tranquil.  As 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach  not  a  ruffle  disturbed  the 
surface  of  the  waters.  Like  a  sea  of  glass,  it  reflect- 
ed the  form  of  every  bird  which  took  passage  over  it, 
and  gave  back  from  its  clear  bosom,  the  polished 
beauty  of  the  heavens  above.  Invited  by  the  sereni- 
ty of  ocean  and  sky,  the  mariner  launched  his  vessel, 
and  spread  his  canvas  to  catch  the  gentle  breeze. 
Soon  a  change  came  on.  The  wind  blew  like  the 
hurricane.  The  waves  tumbled  and  foamed  upon, 
each  other.  The  ship  plunged,  and  quivered,  and 
strained  in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  Sunken  rocks  now 
lifted  their  huge  forms  and  sharp  peaks  high  above 
the  water,  and  anon  were  buried  deep,  by  the  moun- 
tain billow.  Morning  came ;  and  a  vessel,  without 
mast,  or  rudder,  or  sail,  or  chart,  or  compass,  or  crew, 
floated  upon  the  bosom  of  the  surge. 

Intemperance  is  like  that  ocean  !  To  the  youthful 
voyager  it  seems  as  calm  and  placid,  as  a  sea  of  glass. 

But  as  he  ventures  out ;  as  the  green  hills  of  so- 
briety disappear,  the  waves  of  destruction  begin  to 
12 


178  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

dash  around  him ;  the  whistling  blasts  of  poverty  . 
make  frightful  music ;  the  moaning  of  the  pitiless 
storm  disturbs  his  dream  of  pleasure,  and  ere  long 
he  is  tossing,  an  unmanageable  wreck,  upon  the  sea 
of  temporal  and  eternal  ruin.  To  point  out  the  dan- 
gers of  the  sea  of  intemperance,  and  utter  a  solemn 
warning  to  the  young,  will  be  the  object  of  the 
present  discourse,  and  while  I  do  this,  I  request  your 
serious  and  candid  attention. 

,  I  need  not  stop  to  prove  that  our  young  men  need 
caution  upon  this  point.  Although  the  temperance 
.  reformation  has  laid  its  heavy  blows  upon  the  shiver- 
ing sides  of  the  dominion  of  king  Alcohol,  his  throne 
is  not  yet  overturned.  His  dark,  infernal  empire  still 
stands.  The  frowning  fortress  from  which  he  hurls 
firebrands,  arrows,  and  death,  still  lifts  its  front  in  the 
midst  of  the  Christian  community,  and  on  every  side, 
are  monuments  of  his  dreadful  conquests.  True  it  is, 
that  intemperance  has  been  driven  from  the  marriage 
festival,  and  the  chamber  of  mourning  ;  from  the  pul- 
pit of  the  minister,  and  the  bench  of  the  judge ;  but 
unabashed,  it  has  sought  out  other  homes,  and  laid  its 
snare  for  new  victims.  What  then,  we  ask,  are  the 
solemn  warnings  which  intemperance  gives  to  young 
men  ? 

1.  The  drunkard  shall  come  to  poverty.  Poverty 
in  itself,  is  not  a  crime.  No  disgrace  belongs  to  the 
man,  who  by  reverses  in  business,  is  led  down  from 


INTEMPERANCE.  179 

affluence  to  destitution.  The  poorest  man  who  walks 
this  earth  of  sorrow,  or  who  toils  in  vain  to  clothe  and 
feed  his  children,  can  stand  in  the  presence  of  the 
man  of  millions,  with  no  consciousness  of  inferiority. 
But  when  poverty  is  the  result  of  crime,  it  becomes  at 
once  sinful  and  disgraceful ;  when  it  is  the  result  of 
gambling,  or  drinking,  or  lying,  it  covers  its  victim 
with  a  robe  of  shame.  Under  any  circumstances  it  is 
exceedingly  unpleasant  and  inconvenient  to  be  very 
poor,  and  by  most  men,  poverty  is  dreaded  as  one  of 
the  worst  of  evils.  Now  poverty  is  as  sure  to  follow 
a  course  of  intemperance,  as  light  and  heat  to  follow 
the  rising  of  the  sun.  God  has  so  ordained.  In  his 
word  he  has  declared  that  the  drunkard  shall  come  to 
poverty,  and  wherever  we  behold  drunkenness,  we 
also  gaze  upon  squalid  misery.  Go  into  any  commu- 
nity and  you  will  find  affluence  to  be  the  result  of  so- 
briety, and  destitution  the  sure  attendant  of  dissipa- 
tion. You  will  expect  to  find  in  the  neat,  vine-cover- 
ed cottage,  a  frugal,  temperate  man ;  and  in  the  hovel, 
unpainted  and  desolate,  the  windows  shattered,  the 
doors  unhinged,  an  intemperate  and  dissipated  man. 
So  universal  is  this  fact,  that  we  expect  a  young  man 
to  ruin  himself,  squander  his  property,  become  idle 
and  worthless,  when  he  commences  a  course  of  intem- 
perance. We  predict  with  almost  unerring  certainty, 
that  a  few  years  will  make  him  a  pauper  or  a  crimi- 
nal, and  leave  him  in  a  mad-house  or  prison,  the  vie- 


180  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

tun  of  his  crimes.  The  wretched  beings,  who  some- 
times reel  along  our  streets,  the  sport  of  boyhood,  and 
the  shame  of  manhood  ;  the  miserable  creatures,  who 
hide  in  cellars,  and  bar-rooms,  and  taverns,  were  once 
as  respectable  as  those  who  now  walk  the  earth,  with 
proud  step  and  lofty  look.  But  forgetting  the  decla- 
ration of  the  Almighty,  "  the  drunkard  shall  come  to 
poverty,"  they  took  the  social  glass,  and  drank  its 
contents.  The  pledge  was  disregarded,  and  the  warn- 
ings of  temperate  men,  unheeded.  Step  by  step, 
they  descended  from  respectability  and  affluence  to 
wretchedness  and  woe.  Property  was  wasted,  and 
character  sacrificed.  Self-respect  took  its  flight,  and 
those  who  were  once  the  enterprising,  industrious, 
hopeful  young  men  of  our  country,  are  now  the  reel- 
ing, staggering  inhabitants  of  dens  and  caves  of  in- 
famy. 

One  such  case,  came  under  my  own  observation, 
about  one  year  ago.  A  young  man,  with  whom  I  was 
intimate  in  childhood,  became  intemperate.  When  a 
boy,  he  had  a  generous  heart,  and  a  noble  disposition. 
We  all  loved  him,  and  of  our  circle,  he  was  the  pride 
and  ornament.  Friends  looked  to  him,  with  the 
highest  anticipations  of  his  future  usefulness.  When 
at  a  proper  age,  he  commenced  business,  and  for 
awhile  was  exceedingly  prosperous.  The  little  prop- 
erty, which  he  had  at  first,  increased,  and  he  was 
looking  forward  to  wealth  and  affluence.  In  an  un- 


INTEMPERANCE.  181 

fortunate  hour,  he  learned  to  drink  the  social  glass, 
and  drain  the  maddening  bowl.  Kind  friends  hung 
around  him,  and  presented  their  remonstrances ;  the 
church  of  which  he  was  a  member,  uttered  its  kindest 
•warnings ;  an  aged  mother  hung  upon  his  steps  with 
prayers  and  tears.  Heedless  of  them  all,  he  clung 
to  his  boon  companions,  and  his  cups.  "  I  shall 
never  become  a  drunkard,"  he  said,  "  I  can  control 
my  appetite ;  your  fears  are  vain."  Soon  business 
was  neglected.  The  little  fortune  which  he  had  ac- 
cumulated was  scattered  to  the  blast,  and  discouraged 
and  disheartened,  he  became  a  drunkard.  The  asso- 
ciates of  his  early  days  stood  aloof ;  the  church,  with 
many  tears,  and  after  many  fruitless  efforts  to  reform 
him,  withdrew  the  hand  of  fellowship ;  his  mother 
died  of  a  broken  heart,  and  the  young  man  himself, 
mortified  and  ashamed,  fled  from  the  scenes  of  his 
youth,  and  the  companions  of  his  childhood. 

One  morning,  about  a  year  since,  a  messenger 
called  at  my  door,  and  asked  me  to  visit  a  young  man 
in  distress.  Amid  the  peltings  of  the  pitiless  storm, 
I  hastened  to  the  place  where  he  was.  I  found  the 
street,  the  house  —  if  house,  the  wretched  tenement 
could  be  called.  Up  into  the  third  story,  I  traveled, 
amid  dirt  and  filth,  and  entered  the  chamber  to  which 
I  was  directed.  In  a  cold  room,  on  a  bed  of  straw, 
covered  with  a  single  moth-eaten  blanket,  burning 
with  fever,  tortured  with  rheumatism,  and  delirious 


182  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

with  drink,  was  stretched  a  young  man.  I  could  not 
recognize  his  countenance,  or  recall  a  single  feature. 
"  I  do  not  know  you,"  I  said  to  him.  He  cast  on 
me  a  look  of  agony,  and  replied :  "  Good  God,  has 
intemperance  blotted  out  my  manliness,  and  made  me 
so  much  a  demon,  that  my  early  associates  do  not 
know  me  ?"  Then  he  covered  his  face,  and  wept 
aloud. 

His  story  is  soon  told.  He  was  the  young  man, 
who  hi  early  life  had  given  such  promise  of  useful- 
ness. To  one  degree  after  another  in  his  fatal  habit 
he  had  advanced,  until  his  money  was  gone,  and  he 
was  a  pauper.  To  our  city  he  had  wandered  in 
search  of  employment,  and  here  I  found  him,  in  the 
condition  which  I  have  described,  with  both  feet 
frozen,  and  none  to  minister  to  his  wants.  In  the 
wretched  dwelling,  and  among  the  more  wretched  oc- 
cupants, he  found  no  sympathy.  He  learned  in  all 
the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  that  the  drunkard  will 
come  to  poverty. 

I  would  not  affirm,  that  every  case  of  intemperance 
will  end  like  this,  or  that  the  destruction  of  every  in- 
temperate young  man,  will  be  as  speedy  and  as  aw- 
ful. But  sooner  or  later,  poverty  will  crush  the 
spirits  of  every  man  who  "  looketh  upon  the  wine 
when  it  is  red,"  or  who  goeth  after  strong  drink.  He 
may  bear  up  against  it  for  awhile,  but  it  will  ulti- 
mately overthrow  him.  It  will  perplex  and  disturb 


INTEMPEKANCE.  183 

his  business ;  it  will  mortgage  his  house,  and  his  farm ; 
it  will  place  an  attachment  upon  his  stocks ;  it  will 
ruin  all  his  prospects  for  this  life,  and  the  life  to 
come. 

2.  Intemperance  ruins  the  physical  constitution. 
In  the  creation  of  the  body,  God  has  displayed  infinite 
wisdom.  More  wonderful  than  any  complicated  work 
of  human  hands,  it  bears  the  impress  of  divinity.  It  is 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  and  is  a  specimen  of 
workmanship,  unrivaled  in  the  arts.  The  Maker  of 
man  did  not  form  him  thus  fearfully,  in  order  that  he 
might  be  broken  by  disease,  and  crushed  by  vice. 
He  made  him  upright.  He  stamped  the  blush  of 
health  upon  his  cheek,  and  sent  him  forth  to  look 
upon  the  earth  beneath  his  feet,  and  the  heavens 
above  his  head. 

You  have  seen  a  beautiful  machine,  fulfilling  the 
purpose  of  its  maker,  and  working  with  order,  regu- 
larity and  harmony.  You  .have  examined  it  closely, 
and  admired  the  perfection  of  all  its  parts.  You 
have  complimented  the  skill  of  the  artizan,  and  deem- 
ed his  work,  one  of  extraordinary  ingenuity.  You 
have  also  seen  that  machine  disarranged  ;  the  order 
and  harmony  of  its  movements  gone,  and  entirely  in- 
capable of  performing  the  work  for  which  the  maker 
designed  it. 

The  human  body  under  the  influence  of  intempe- 
rance, is  like  that  disarranged  and  broken  instru- 


184  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

ment.  The  purpose  of  its  creation  is  defeated,  and 
it  becomes  the  seat  of  numberless  diseases,  aches  and 
pains,  sorrows  and  woes,  for  which  God  never  has  in- 
tended it.  The  drunkard  presents  a  fearful  specimen 
of  a  broken-down  man.  From  the  head  to  the  feet, 
he  is  covered  with  disease.  He  moves  along  the 
street,  with  downcast  eyes,  or  staggers  to  and  fro, 
with  heavy  tread ;  his  nerves  are  all  unstrung,  or 
braced  beyond  endurance  ;  his  head  aches  and 
throbs ;  his  bloated  face  spoils  the  beauty  of  a  hu- 
man being ;  his  knees  totter  and  smite  against  each 
other  ;  his  livid  lips  are  closed  over  teeth  decayed ; 
his  swollen  tongue  prevents  his  ready  utterance  ;  his 
idiotic  look,  betokens  speedy  death ;  his  eye  glares  at 
one  time,  and  is  languid  and  bloodshot  at  another ; 
and  his  brain  is  racked  with  a  thousand  fancies,  and 
agonized  by  a  thousand  fears.  Go  search  earth's 
darkest  caves,  and  bring  up  to  the  blaze  of  day,  the 
inmates  of  your  prisons  and  dungeons ;  your  insane 
asylums  and  madhouses,  and  none  will  you  find  so 
miserable  and  degraded,  so  lost  to  all  that  makes  up 
a  perfect  man,  as  the  victim  of  intemperance.  Take 
some  case  within  the  limits  of  your  own  observation ; 
some  friend  who  tampered  with  the  terrible  destroyer, 
and  been  ruined.  You  knew  him  perhaps,  when  no 
shade  of  crime  had  passed  over  his  manly  counte- 
nance ;  when  he  walked  with  his  head  erect,  and  his 
bosom  bared  to  the  storms  of  life  ;  when  life  flashed 


INTEMPERANCE.  185 

from  his  eye,  and  vigor  was  in  his  step ;  when  the 
stranger  noted  his  manly  form,  and  correct  deport- 
ment. You  have  seen  that  form  bend,  not  with  age  ; 
you  have  seen  that  step  falter,  not  from  fear,  and 
that  once  noble  form  reeling  from  the  drunkard's  pur 
gatory,  to  lie  besotted  and  beast-like  by  the  wayside. 
You  have  seen  everything  noble  and  beautiful  in  this 
God-made  body,  utterly  spoiled  ;  the  divinity  in  man 
crushed  out  of  him,  and  the  temple  of  the  immortal 
soul  laid  in  ruins.  Nor  will  the  young  men  whom  I 
address  to-night,  avoid  this  terrible  destruction  of  the 
human  system,  if  they  enter  the  fatal  avenues  which 
lead  to  the  drunkard's  fate.  They  may  suppose  that 
they  have  power  to  drink,  or  refrain  from  drinking. 
They  may  boast  how  strong  they  are,  and  how  easily 
they  can  dash  the  inebriating  cup  to  the  earth.  But 
their  boasts  are  idle  as  the  wind.  The  great  army  of 
drunkards  with  crippled  limb,  limping  form,  bleeding 
heart,  and  maddened  brain,  thousands  of  whom  die 
every  year,  utter  their  notes  of  warning.  The  broken, 
diseased,  death-struck  forms  of  prostrate  men,  as  they 
lie  along  the  path  of  life,  give  fearful  admonition. 
The  opening  graves,  into  which  the  remains  of  men 
are  tumbled  after  they  have  cursed  themselves  and 
all  around  them ;  graves  on  which  the  flowers  seem 
unwilling  to  bloom,  and  over  which  the  birds  appear 
to  sing  in  sadness  ;  graves  wet  by  no  widow's  tears, 
consecrated  by  no  orphan's  lament ;  graves  which 


186  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

angels  shun,  or  by  which  they  weep  in  sorrow,  as  on 
their  mission  of  mercy,  they  pass  through  the  city  of 
the  dead,  all  sound  the  alarm,  and  by  the  dumb  elo- 
quence of  their  speechless  harmony,  bid  the  living 
throng,  beware  of  the  drunkard's  hopeless  doom. 
You  remember  the  famous  dream  or  vision  of  a  dis- 
tinguished clergyman,  for  the  publication  of  which,  he 
'  was  beaten  in  the  street  and  imprisoned.  The  scene 
was  said  to  be  in  Deacon  Giles's  Distillery.  The 
dreamer  saw  the  demon-workmen  at  their  unhallowed 
employment,  manufacturing  with  great  zeal  the  elixir 
of  death.  He  heard  their  ferocious  and  blasphemous 
expressions.  While  he  gazed  on,  barrel  after  barrel 
of  the  accursed  poison  was  drawn  from  the  cistern 
and  prepared  for  sale.  The  employment  of  one  or 
more  of  the  fiends  was,  to  mark  and  label  these  bar- 
rels and  hogsheads  of  rum  and  gin,  which  had  been 
put  up.  Quenching  a  coal  of  fire  in  the  liquid  which 
he  had  made,  the  infernal  monster  went  to  work.  On 
all  the  barrels,  in  letters  which  would  remain  invisible 
until  the  first  glass  was  drawn,  and  then  burn  forth 
like  fire,  he  wrote,  "  consumption,"  "  palsy,"  "  fe- 
ver," "  plague,"  "  insanity,"  "  madness,"  "  redness 
of  eyes,"  "  sorrow  of  heart,"  "death,"  "damnation," 
and  the  like  expressions,  which,  when  the  liquid  death 
had  been  sold,  and  the  buyers  drew  from  it  for  the 
first  time,  flashed  out  in  the  faces  of  the  thirsty  cus- 
tomers, who  stood  waiting  around  the  bar.  With 


INTEMPERANCE,  187 

fearful  consternation  they  saw  written  in  words  of 
flame,  the  diseases  which  they  knew  were  preying 
upon  their  systems,  and  fled  from  the  place  in  terror. 
What  that  dreamer  saw  in  vision,  we  behold  an 
existing  fact.  Though  on  the  barrels  in  the  rum- 
shops,  we  do  not  find  the  words  of  fire  written  there 
by  demon  hands,  yet  we  behold  more  fearful  inscrip- 
tions on  the  living,  dying  countenances  of  men  who 
walk  our  streets.  Gleaming  forth  from  fiery  eyes ; 
seen  on  the  wan  and  haggard  cheek ;  read  in  the 
stooping  forms  and  staggering  tread ;  heard  in  the 
hollow  cough ;  felt  in  the  aching  head,  and  beating 
heart,  proving  to  us  that  intemperance 

"  is  palsy,  plague,  and  fever, 
And  madness  all  combined," 

are  the  fearful  inscriptions  of  death  and  damnation. 

3.  Intemperance  poisons  domestic  felicity.  The 
sacredness  of  HOME  has  often  been  made  the  subject 
of  discourse.  Scarcely  a  man  now  hears  me,  whose 
heart  has  not  beat  quickly,  at  the  mention  of  the  en- 
dearing word.  HOME  —  it  is  associated  with  all  the 
pleasant  scenes  of  childhood  and  youth ;  with  the 
names  of  companions,  whose  countenances  are  now 
forgotten  ;  with  the  prayers  of  parents  and  the  love 
and  kindness  of  brothers  and  sisters,  who  are  now 
sleeping  in  the  grave.  Nor,  until  human  nature  be 
changed,  will  this  love  of  home  be  entirely  destroyed. 


188  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

Men  who  wander  far  away,  over  ocean  and  land, 
who  journey  from  clime  to  clime,  as  fugitives  and 
wanderers,  look  back  with  pleasant  emotions  to  a  spot 
which  they  call  their  "  home."  But  intemperance, 
like  gambling,  is  calculated  to  corrupt  home,  poison 
its  joys,  and  wither  its  flowers.  Many  a  family  has 
been  made  wretched  and  miserable  by  intemperance. 
The  fire  on  many  a  hearth  has  been  put  out,  by  the 
drink  of  death.  Indeed,  intemperance  so  transforms 
a  man's  character,  that  he  is  not  prepared  to  fulfill 
the  relations  which  exist  between  him  and  his  family. 
However  kind  he  may  be  when  sober,  however  he  may 
provide  for  the  wants  of  his  family,  if  he  is  an  intem- 
perate man,  he  cannot  be  a  good  husband,  or  a  good 
father.  The  thing  is  impossible.  Drink  transforms 
the  kind  and  indulgent  sire  into  the  harsh,  unjust,  and 
cruel  tyrant.  Men,  who  when  sober  are  affectionate 
and  pleasant,  become  under  the  influence  of  inebria- 
tion, fierce  and  wicked. 

Awhile  since,  I  became  acquainted  with  a  family, 
the  head  of  which  was  a  kind,  inoffensive  man,  who 
loved  his  wife  and  his  children  with  a  pure  affection. 
He  was  one  of  those  peculiar  men  whose  hearts  are 
full  of  kindness  for  all  around.  He  was,  to  some  ex- 
tent, an  intemperate  man,  and  when  drunken  was  the 
very  reverse  of  what  he  was  in  his  sober  moments. 
On  one  occasion  he  returned  to  his  home  in  a  state 
of  intoxication,  and  for  awhile  sat  brooding  by  the 


INTEMPERANCE.  189 

fire,  silent  and  stupid.  Soon  his  son  came  in,  a  little, 
bright,  intelligent  boy  of  six  years.  The  child  at 
school  had  received  the  commendation  of  his  teacher, 
and  in  his  joy  had  hastened  home  to  repeat  the  worda 
of  kindness  to  his  parent.  Somewhat  boisterously  he 
rushed  into  the  room,  and  with  eyes  glistening  with 
delight,  threw  himself  into  the  father's  arms.  That 
brutal  sire,  changed  from  friend  to  fiend,  uttered  a 
fearful  oath,  threw  the  child  from  him,  struck  him 
in  the  face,  and  dashed  him  to  the  earth.  What 
other  acts  of  violence  he  would  have  committed  we 
know  not.  The  mother  seized  her  child,  the  blool 
gushing  from  his  nose  and  mouth,  two  of  his  teeth 
gone,  and  fled  with  him  to  the  house  of  a  neighbor. 
When  reason  returned,  had  that  father  committed 
murder,  he  could  not  have  been  more  penitent.  Ho 
cursed  his  cups,  and  yet  clung  to  them.  He  cursed 
the  man  who  sold  him  drink,  and  still  hung  about  nia 
workshop  of  death.  He  wept  and  prayed  over  his 
child,  and  still  continued  in  the  habit  which  caused 
the  injury. 

Not  long  ago,  the  papers  of  our  city  gave  us  an 
account  of  a  murder  committed  in  our  very  midst. 
A  husband,  who  in  his  sober  moments  was  kind  to  hi3 
companion,  in  a  fit  of  intemperance,  had  destroyed 
her  life,  and  sent  her  spirit  to  the  bar  of  God.  Not- 
withstanding his  vow  to  be  her  support  and  protection, 
he  caused  her  death.  With  his  own  hands  he  beat 


190  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

and  mangled  her  form,  until  the  vital  principle  was 
gone,  and  then  retired  to  bed,  to  sleep  the  drunkard's 
sleep,  and  dream  the  drunkard's  dream. 

Southern  papers,  awhile  since,  gave  an  account  too 
dreadful  almost  to  be  believed.  A  newly  married 
couple  had  lived  together,  for  a  short  time,  in  quiet 
and  happiness.  Soon  after  the  marriage,  the  hus- 
band began  to  drink.  The  fatal  habit  rapidly  in- 
creased upon  him,  and  in  two  years,  he  was  a  miser- 
able drunkard.  One  night  he  returned  home  at  a 
late  hour,  and  found  his  wife  in  a  flood  of  tears. 
With  an  oath,  he  commanded  her  to  dry  her  cheeks. 
She  could  not.  Tears  had  been  her  meat,  day  and 
night,  and  they  came  unbidden.  She  ventured  to 
remonstrate.  Seven  devils  seemed  to  enter  into  him. 
He  struck  her  to  the  floor ;  with  a  sharp  knife  he 
gashed  her  flesh,  and  hacked  her  limbs,  and  leaving 
her  half  dead,  fled  away.  In  the  morning  friends 
came  in,  and  found  the  wife  insensible,  and  her  babe 
playing  in  the  purple  flood,  and  when  they  uttered 
exclamations  of  horror,  the  child  held  up  its  hands, 
covered  with  a  mother's  blood,  and  wept. 

I  have  introduced  these  cases,  that  I  may  ask,  if 
man  is  bad  enough,  with  all  his  depraved  powers  and 
passions,  to  accomplish  deeds  like  these,  without  the 
aid  of  reason-robbing  drink  ?  No ;  crushed  as  human 
nature  is  by  sin,  it  needs  some  artificial  stimulant  to 
bring  it  up  to  a  point,  where  it  can  sever  so  recklessly 


INTEMPERANCE.  191 

the  dearest  ties  of  nature,  and  commit  crimes,  at 
which  cruelty  itself  revolts.  And  we  find  intoxicat- 
ing drink,  furnishing  just  the  excitement  which  is  re- 
quired to  induce  husbands  to  imbrue  their  hands  in 
the  blood  of  their  wives,  and  fathers  to  destroy  the 
lives  of  their  children.  We  find  intemperance  lead- 
ing to  family  disturbances  and  social  discord.  We 
find  it  to  be  the  cause  of  sorrow  in  households,  and 
divisions  between  companions  who  have  lived  plea- 
santly for  years. 

4.  Intemperance  impairs  the  intellect,  and  produces 
idiocy  and  madness.  There  is  a  strong  sympathy 
between  the  physical  and  mental  parts  of  man.  One 
acts  upon  the  other.  If  the  body  is  diseased,  the 
mind  is  also  found  to  be  in  an  unhealthy  condition. 
If  the  mind  is  unhinged  or  thrown  from  its  balance, 
the  body  suffers  accordingly.  The  intellectual  is 
more  valuable  than  the  physical.  It  will  endure 
when  the  body  has  decayed,  and  will  continue  to  be, 
after  the  material  structure  has  disappeared.  Now 
intemperance  acts  directly  upon  the  mind  itself,  and 
indirectly  through  the  medium  of  the  physical  consti- 
tution. The  injury  done  to  mind  by  this  vice,  is  be- 
yond all  calculation.  Men  of  strong  and  vigorous  in- 
tellect have  been  bowed  by  it ;  shining  talents  have 
been  dimmed  and  tarnished,  and  the  fairest  pros- 
pects of  intellectual  greatness  blasted  by  its  fatal 
influence.  The  legal  and  medical  professions,  and 


192  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

even  the  ministry,  have  lost  some  of  their  brightest 
ornaments,  and  been  robbed  of  some  of  their  choicest 
jewels,  to  gratify  the  lust  of  this  accursed  Moloch. 
Memory  now  recalls  the  form  and  countenance  of 
one,  who  a  few  years  since,  bid  fair  to  stand  among 
the  first  orators  at  the  bar.  His  professional  services 
were  ncld  in  high  estimation ;  as  an  orator  he  was 
enthusiastically  applauded  ;  as  a  profound  scholar,  an 
able  statesman,  a  clear  and  vivid  writer,  he  had  but 
few  superiors.  The  political  party  of  which  he  was 
a  member,  nominated  him  for  a  seat  in  Congress,  and 
but  for  the  fatal  habit  of  intemperance,  he  would  have 
been  elected.  But  all  the  hopes  of  his  youth  were  to 
be  disappointed.  The  love  of  strong  drink  grew  upon 
him ;  he  was  seen  in  a  state  of  intoxication  in  the 
court-room ;  confidence  in  him  was  soon  lost,  and  now 
if  you  will  visit  the  city  of  his  birth,  you  will  find  the 
wreck  of  the  once  polished  lawyer  and  accomplished 
statesman.  His  once  powerful  intellect  is  shattered, 
and  although  he  was,  but  a  few  years  since,  the  pride 
and  admiration  of  the  bar,  he  dares  not  now  attempt 
an  argument  in  open  court.  A  hundred  other  cases 
equally  plain  and  pitiable  might  be  produced.  The 
history  of  intemperance  is  full  of  them,  and  on  every 
page  of  its  fearful  record  can  be  found  the  names  of 
men,  who  have  fallen  from  the  highest  summit  of  in- 
tellectual greatness,  to  the  lowest  depths  of  degrada- 
tion and  infamy.  The  ravages  of  intemperance  in  its 


INTEMPEKANCE.  193 

last  stages,  are  fearful  indeed.  The  mind  becomes 
entirely  overthrown,  and  loses  all  power  of  self-con- 
trol. Like  a  ship  without  rudder,  or  chart,  or  com- 
pass, it  plunges  on  the  terrible  waters  of  a  deep,  dark 
sea.  He  who  would  see  the  intellect  entirely  de- 
throned, and  hell  begun  on  eapth,  must  visit  the  bed 
of  a  man  suffering  with  the  torment  of  delirium  tre- 
mens.  The  poor  sufferer  is  haunted  by  every  image 
of  terror,  he  sees  horrid  shapes,  he  hears  horrid 
sounds.  Images,  which  no  mortal  man  ever  conceived 
of  before,  start  up,  and  throng  around  him.  Satan 
with  all  his  legions  come  racing  up  from  pandemo- 
nium to  hold  their  infernal  conclave  in  his  chamber  ; 
beside  his  dying  bed.  Ghosts  of  murdered  men  drag 
their  bleeding  bodies  from  the  grave,  and  lay  them 
at  his  feet.  He  sees  —  he  hears  —  he  feels  everything 
dreadful.  Each  figure  on  the  wall,  becomes  a  fiend, 
which  looks  upon  him  with  glaring  eye ;  the  friends 
who  move  about  the  room  in  tearful  silence,  are  to  his 
disordered  fancy,  pale  spectres,  who  cry  avaunt,  and 
shake  at  him  their  long,  bony  fingers ;  the  blanket 
which  covers  him,  he  imagines  to  be  a  huge  snarl  of 
snakes  and  'reptiles  woven  together,  and  feasting  on 
each  other.  Inconceivable  terror  takes  possession  of 
him  ;  he  starts  from  his  bed  in  anguish ;  he  bids  the 
fiends  begone,  and  hears  only  their  mockery.  He 
utters  heart-rending  cries,  which  echo  far  down  the 
street  at  midnight ;  he  pleads  with  his  physician  to 
13 


194  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

tear  the  strangling  serpents  from  his  throat,  to  drive 
away  the  demons,  who  have  come  to  torment  him  be- 
fore his  time. 

In  what  prison  or  mad-house,  can  you  find  insanity 
like  this  ?  In  what  lone  cell,  or  dark  chamber,  can 
you  find  madness  which  equals  that  of  the  dying 
drunkard  ?  In  the  darkest  secrets  of  human  misery 
the  delirium  tremens  has  no  counterpart,  and  as  a 
source  of  unspeakable  anguish,  and  unmitigated  mis- 
ery, it  stands  alone,  unrivalled  by  anything  this  side 
of  perdition. 

A  few  months  ago,  a  virtuous,  amiable  young  man, 
was  bitten  by  a  mad  dog,  and  awhile  afterwards  died 
of  hydrophobia.  In  the  arms  of  that  terrible  disease, 
the  hapless  victim  lived  a  few  hours  in  excruciating 
torment,  pleading  with  his  friends  to  give  him  some 
drug  which  would  destroy  life.  The  fearful  news 
spread  rapidly  from  one  to  another ;  for  awhile  this 
awful  disease  was  the  subject  of  conversation  in  all 
circles ;  the  press  uttered  its  warning,  and  the  pulpit 
made  use  of  the  solemn  providence.  All  were  alarm- 
ed ;  cities  framed  laws,  and  the  great  commonwealth 
made  the  disease  the  subject  of  solemn  legislation. 
Muzzles  and  chains  were  used  ;  dogdom  was  in  ter- 
ror, and  hundreds  of  these  creatures  have  been  de- 
stroyed. All  this  is  well — I  would  not  have  it  other- 
wise. I  only  ask.  that  the  madness  of  intemperance 
may  receive  a  like  attention.  In  the  whole  history  of 


INTEMPERANCE.  195 

a  city,  but  one  case  of  hydrophobia  has  occurred  —  but 
one  death  from  the  fearful  malady,  and  yet  the  town 
is  all  agog ;  editors  are  writing,  ministers  are  preach- 
ing, and  lawyers  are  pleading,  that  something  be 
done,  while  the  madness  of  inte  nperance  —  a  disease 
infinitely  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the  hydrophobia,  is 
destroying  its  victims  every  month,  and  no  one  seems 
to  be  alarmed. 

Suppose  you,  a  man  should  build  houses  on  the  cor- 
ners of  every  street,  that  from  their  doors  and  win- 
dows, he  might  let  loose  upon  the  unthinking  popu- 
lace, mad  dogs  of  every  size  and  tribe,  to  bite  the 
people,  and  spread  the  poison  of  disease  throughout 
the  whole  community ;  what  would  be  thought  of  him  ? 
Why,  the  law  would  lay  its  heavy  hand  upon  his  mur- 
derous vocation,  close  his  doors,  and  drag  him  to 
some  place  of  confinement.  And  here  are  men  found 
on  almost  every  street  whose  sole  business  is,  to  let 
loose  upon  society  insanity  and  madness  in  their 
worst  forms,  who  send  their  rum  dogs,  mad  as  Satan, 
to  bite  with  venomed  tooth  the  loveliest  members  of 
our  families,  whose  trade  is,  to  spread  among  men, 
the  worst  kind  of  hydrophobia,  and  make  war  alike 
upon  the  bodies  and  the  souls  of  our  fellow-creatures. 

5.  No  drunkard  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God. 
This  is  the  solemn  declaration  of  an  inspired  penman. 
And  how  reasonable  its  truth  !  The  kingdom  of  God 
is  a  place  or  state  of  purity.  We  are  informed  that 


196  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

there,  shall  be  heard  no  discordant  clamor ;  no  voice 
of  wrangling  and  bitterness;  no  sound  of  disorder, 
tumult  and  wrong.  There,  all  is  pure,  all  is  lovely, 
all  is  holy.  There  angels  sing,  and  holy  beings  make 
sweet  music  to  God  a  id  the  Lamb.  Gathered  there 
from  every  clime,  ^re  the  holy  men  of  earth ;  men 
who  have  toiled  and  suffered  in  this  world,  having  no 
abiding  place  below  the  skies.  There  is  no  night 
there  —  no  tears  —  no  sorrow.  One  deep,  wide  wave 
of  glory  and  delight,  submerges  all.  And  can  the 
drunkard  expect  to  live  in  such  a  AYorld  ?  Can  he 
whose  lips  have  so  long  given  utterance  to  blasphemy, 
attune  them  to  the  melody  of  heaven  ?  No ;  the  word 
of  God  declares  the  thing  to  be  impossible.  The 
drunkard's  voice  would  make  a  discordant  sound  in 
the  world  of  bliss.  His  shout  would  burst  like  a  wail 
of  despair  upon  the  startled  inhabitants  of  the  celes- 
tial abode,  and  contrasting  his  own  deformed  and 
crime-blasted  character  with  the  purity  and  bliss 
around  him,  he  would  find  heaven  to  be  more  intoler- 
able than  the  deepest  pit  in  hell.  And  where  shall 
the  poor  drunkard  go  ?  He  has  misery  and  suffering 
on  the  earth,  and  where  shall  he  go  ?  Look  upon  him 
as  in  his  chamber,  in  the  last  stages  of  delirium  ire- 
mens,  he  is  held  upon  the  bed  by  strong  hands ;  see 
his  wild  and  horror-struck  countenance ;  hear  his  ter- 
rible, blasphemous  expressions ;  gaze  upon  his  rolling 
eye,  and  behold  his  consternation  as  he  imagines  that 


INTEMPERANCE.  197 

his  room  is  filled  with  snakes  and  devils ;  and  tell 
me,  where  shall  he  go  ? 

One  word  more,  and  I  will  close.  In  all  large 
cities,  young  men  are  exposed  to  numberless  tempta- 
tions. On  every  side  are  the  snares  of  the  enemy, 
and  from  the  gay  saloon  with  its  glittering  ornaments, 
to  the  low  hovel  of  wretched  inebriation,  are  found 
the  sources  of  intemperance  and  vice.  Beside  the 
open  and  known  resorts  of  infamy,  are  secret  dens 
and  caves  in  which  the  wicked  hide  themselves,  and 
into  which  the  young  are  decoyed  and  ruined.  A 
friend,  a  few  days  since,  entered  one  of  the  most  pub- 
lic buildings  in  one  of  our  cities,  and  came  to  the  door 
of  a  room  which  refused  him  entrance.  lie  discov- 
ered a  secret  spring,  and  touched  it.  The  door  flew 
open,  and  he  saw  hi  full  operation  the  bar,  and  the 
gaming-table.  Congregated  there  in  the  broad  day, 
and  yet  concealed  from  human  view,  were  the  wretch- 
ed beings  who  make  crime  a  pastime  and  sin  a  recrea- 
tion. And  other  such  places  there  are  hi  all  our 
large  cities,  whose  sole  object  is  the  •  destruction  of 
the  young.  To  these  facts  it  is  worse  than  madness 
to  blind  our  eyes.  They  meet  us  on  every  hand ; 
they  stare  us  in  the  face  at  every  turn  we  take. 

Young  men,  it  devolves  on  you  to  say  what  shall 
be  the  future  history  of  the  temperance  reformation. 
It  devolves  on  you  to  say  how  far  the  burning 
waves  of  intemperance  shall  sweep  on,  and  where  they 


198  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

shall  be  stayed.  I  therefore  call  upon  you,  in  the 
name  of  our  common  humanity,  to  arise  in  all  the 
vigor  of  youth,  and  manliness,  and  arrest,  if  possible, 
the  tide  of  ruin  which  is  sweeping  over  the  beauty  of 
our  land.  We  n?ed  warm  hearts  and  willing  hands. 
The  monster  with  whom  we  have  to  contend,  is  more 
powerful  than  kings  and  emperors,  and  will  not  be 
defeated  without  a  struggle.  Come  then  to  the  work 
of  humanity ;  the  work  of  God.  It  will  ultimately 
triumph,  and  intemperance  will  be  driven  from  the 
world.  We  may  toil  long  against  the  evil,  but  vic- 
tory will  eventually  crown  our  labors.  It  is  the  cause 
of  human  happiness,  and  would  reflect  glory  upon  the 
angels  of  God,  were  they  permitted  to  engage  in  it. 
Be  not  discouraged,  though  little  may  seem  to  be 
effected. 

"  Never  doubt  a  righteous  cause ; 

Go  ahead ! 

Throw  yourself  completely  in ; 
Conscience  shaping  all  your  laws, 
Manfully  through  thick  and  thin, 

Go  ahead ! 
Do  not  ask  who'll  go  with  yon ; 

Go  ahead ! 

Numbers  ?  spurn  the  coward's  plea ! 
If  there  be  but  one  or  two, 
Single  handed  though  it  be, 

Go  ahead ! 
Though  before  you  mountains  rise. 

Go  ahead  ! 
Scale  them  ?  certainly  you  can ; 


INTEMPEKANCE.  199 

Let  them  proudly  dare  the  skies ; 
What  are  mountains  to  a  man  1 

Go  ahead ! 
Though  fierce  waters  round  you  dash, 

Go  ahead ! 

Let  no  hardship  baffle  you : 
Though  the  heavens  roar  and  flash, 
Still  undaunted,  firm,  and  true. 

Go  ahead!"* 

Invoke  the  assistance  of  "  God  o!erhead,"  and  do  your 
duty  well,  and  when  the  course  of  life  is  run,  and  the 
last  hour  of  human  probation  arrives,  you  will  look 
back  upon  your  efforts  to  stay  the  tide  of  crime, 
and  save  the  drunkard  from  temporal  and  eternal 
destruction,  with  high  and  holy  satisfaction.  Angels 
will  whisper  in  your  ear  of  men  redeemed  from  vice 
and  crime,  and  by  your  hand  plucked  as  brands  from 
the  burning.  Such  tidings  will  be  sweeter  music  to 
your  worn  spirit,  than  all  the  anthems  of  the  earth, 
and  though  borne  upon  the  blast,  or  wafted  on  the 
gentle  breeze,  the  flourish  of  trumpets,  or  the  melody 
of  the  organ,  mav  disturb  the  silence  of  your  death- 
chamber,  the  memory  of  your  good  act,  will  kneel  by 
your  dying  couch,  and  do  its  homage  there,  and 
breathe  upon  you  a  sweeter  strain  than  can  be  pur- 
chased by  the  wealth,  the  honors,  the  noisy  pomp 
and  parade  of  empires. 

*  George  A.  Light. 


LECTURE   IX. 

THE  DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN. 

BE  SURE  YOUB  SIN  WILL  FIND  YOU  OUT.  —  Numbers  32:  23. 

SIN  is  generally  committed  with  the  hope  and  pros- 
pect of  concealment.  Did  the  criminal  believe  that 
he  should  be  detected  and  punished,  he  would  be  de- 
terred from  the  practices  which  have  ruined  so  many 
of  the  young  men  of  our  land.  Did  the  prospect  of 
discovery  and  disgrace  rise  up  before  every  one  who 
goes  forth  to  .the  commission  of  iniquity,  hundreds 
would  start  back  as  from  a  horrid  vision,  and  shun 
crime  as  a  thing  of  fearful  character. 

When  men  go  forth  to  steal,  they  pass  along  with 
noiseless  tread,  and  cautiously  find  their  way  to  the 
golden  treasure.  They  endeavor  to  erase  every  sign 
of  their  crime,  and  leave  their  own  reputation  stain- 
less. The  ideas  of  detection  and  disgrace,  if  they 
ever  enter  the  mind,  are  driven  out,  and  the  criminal 
looks  forward  to  enjoyment  and  not  detection ;  to  im- 


THE  DETECTION  OF  SIN  CERTAIN.     201 

punity,  and  not  punishment.  He  knows  that  he  may 
be  overtaken,  that  he  may  be  exposed,  but  the  cer- 
tainty that  he  will  be  exposed,  does  not  seem  to  enter 
his  mind. 

The  midnight  murderer  hopes  that  his  crime  -will 
be  concealed  forever.  His  motto  is,  "  Dead  men 
tell  no  tales ;"  and  when  the  voice  of  his  victim  is 
hushed  in  death,  when  his  tongue  has  ceased  to  move, 
he  imagines  that  his  dreadful  deed  will  be  covered  up 
from  all  human  scrutiny.  He  often  moves  through 
life,  with  his  head  erect.  He  converses  about  the 
murder  which  he  has  committed  as  freely  as  if  he 
was  innocent.  Sometimes  such  persons  will  even 
allow  themselves  to  be  put  on  committees  of  investi- 
gation, and  in  all  possible  ways  seek  to  blind  the  eyes 
of  the  community. 

Thus  is  it  with  all  criminals,  of  less  or  greater  mag- 
nitude. They  attempt  to  shut  every  door  which 
would  seem  to  be  an  inlet  of  light,  and  hope  that 
the  crime  which  they  have  done,  will  be  buried  up 
forever.  But  how  vain  is  such  a  hope  !  The  declar- 
ation of  the  "  Holy  One,"  is,  "  There  is  nothing  cov- 
ered which  shall  not  be  revealed  ;  neither  hid,  which 
shall  not  be  known."  The  murderer  may  do  his  deed 
of  blood  hi  the  darkness  of  the  darkest  night;  the 
robber  may  meet  his  victim,  miles  from  any  human 
habitation,  and  bury  the  body  of  him  whom  he  has 
robbed  in  the  leaves  of  the  forest,  or  sink  it  in  the 


202  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

I 

channel  of  the  stream ;  the  pirate  may  wash  his  decks 
•with  the  waves  of  ocean,  and  erase  from  his  sails 
every  spot  of  blood  ;  he  may  murder  the  whole  crew ; 
he  may  burn  and  sink  the  vessel  of  his  victims ;  but 
in  all  these  cases,  the  crimes  will  be  made  known. 
Darkness,  and  distance  from  human  beings,  and  the 
moanings  of  the  pathless  ocean,  will  not  cover  or  con- 
ceal the  tokens  of  guilt.  The  ground  will  spout  forth, 
the  blood  ;  the  earth  will  disgorge  the  buried  bodies ; 
and  the  ocean  will  bear  them  scarred,  gashed,  and 
lifeless,  to  the  shore,  where  the  dead  hand  shall  lie 
pointing  ocean-ward,  as  if  seeking  the  detection  of  the 
assassin. 

Of  course  I  am  not  speaking  to  a  congregation  of 
robbers  or  murderers.  I  am  not  preaching  to  those 
whose  hands  are  red  with  blood,  and  whose  con- 
sciences are  corrupted  and  corroded  with  stains  of 
awful  crime.  But  I  am  speaking  to  a  company  of 
sinners ;  to  a  congregation  of  men  and  women  who 
have  ah1  been  involved  in  guilt,  and  who  notwithstand- 
ing their  many  virtues  are,  to  some  extent,  charge- 
able with  wrong.  If  all  are  sinners,  it  is  not  unjust 
to  suppose,  that  many  have  sins  which  they  are  endea- 
voring to  conceal ;  sins  which  they  would  not  wish  to 
have  known,  even  to  their  dearest  friends.  I  think 
the  purest  man  that  ever  walked  this  earth  of  ours, 
would  hardly  wish  to  have  all  his  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings laid  open  before  the  world.  There  are  so  many 


THE  DETECTION   OP   SIN   CERTAIN.  203 

wicked  thoughts,  desires,  and  deeds,  hovering  around 
human  life,  that  the  noblest  and  the  best  would  shrink 
from  an  investigation.  Nor  is  it  unreasonable  to  sup- 
pose, that  among  so  large  a  crowd  of  young  men  as 
throng  our  cities,  there  are  those  who  have  entered 
some  of  the  fatal  avenues  of  guilt,  and  are  hiding  it 
from  their  friends,  and  from  the  public  gaze.  It  is 
not  unreasonable  to  believe,  that  some  have  allowed 
unholy  thoughts  to  manifest  themselves  in  unholy  con- 
duct. There  may  be  amid  this  throng,  some  one  who 
has  learned  to  love  the  music  of  the  gambler's  voice  ; 
who  has  begun  to  sip  the  poison-cup  of  inebriation ; 
who  h'ves  in  violation  of  the  holy  Sabbath,  and  who 
profanes  the  name  of  God,  without  hesitancy.  To 
lead  such  to  renounce  sin,  and  avoid  crime,  I  wish  to 
urge  several  considerations  connected  with  the  detec- 
tion of  every  transgressor. 

I.  THE  STRONG  PROBABILITY.  The  probabilities 
that  sin  will  be  detected,  are  confined  to  this  life.  In 
infinite  wisdom  God  has  so  arranged  the  great  drama 
of  a  changing  world ;  so  contrived  its  shifting  scenes, 
that  crimes  are  discovered  when  most  we  desire  and 
expect  concealment,  and  there  is  a  strong  probability 
that  the  vicious  will  be  detected  and  exposed.  These 
probabilities  are, 

1.  The  confessions  of  associates.  In  wrong  courses 
and  in  crimes,  men  generally  have  some  assistants 
and  accomplices.  They  seldom  go  alone  to  commit 


204  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

deeds  of  darkness  and  madness.  They  choose  asso- 
ciates resembling  themselves  in  moral  character,  and 
to  them  impart  their  secrets,  and  unfold  their  pur- 
poses. They  make  their  companions  acquainted  with 
all  then*  views  and  feelings,  and  thus  place  their  lives 
in  the  hands  of  others.  Now  there  is  a  strong  proba- 
bility that  these  associates  will  reveal  the  secret  and 
expose  the  sin.  Bad  men  do  not  long  remain  in  com- 
pany without  strife,  and  the  very  person  to  whom 
the  knowledge  of  the  crime  has  been  communicated, 
becomes  the  source  of  information  and  exposure. 
How  often  do  we  hear  of  crimes  thus  exposed.  Long 
buried,  and  covered  from  human  gaze,  the  criminal 
has  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  everlasting  conceal- 
ment, when  lo!  his  accomph'ce,  the  sharer  of  the 
spoils,  the  partner  of  his  guilt,  becomes  his  accuser. 
The  crime  long  forgotten  is  uncovered,  the  author 
of  it  is  branded  with  disgrace,  and  the  scene  ends  in 
misery  and  sorrow.  Indeed,  so  common  is  the  con- 
fession of  associates,  that  we  all  expect  crime  to  be 
detected.  When  the  tidings  of  murder,  or  robbery, 
or  wrong  of  any  kind,  are  running  through  the  coun- 
try, we  watch  the  next  daily  paper  to  see  the  name 
of  the  criminal,  and  learn  his  fate.  We  feel  confident 
that  he  will  not  escape  ;  that  some  voice  will  whisper 
words  in  secret,  which  shall  be  spoken  upon  house- 
tops, and  those  words  such  as  shall  make  condemna- 
tion certain.  The  horrid  murder  which  was  commit- 


THE  DETECTION  OF  SIN  CERTAIN.     205 

ted  beneath  the  walls  of  Waterville  College,  the 
solemn  tones  of  which  have  echoed  far  and  wide 
over  our  land,  and  produced  sadness  in  many  circles, 
was  exposed  by  one  to  whom  the  unfortunate  physi- 
cian, who  committed  the  crime,  looked  to  for  conceal- 
ment and  confidence.  The  very  man  who  was  to 
bury  the  body,  and  hide  forever  all  traces  of  guilt, 
was  the  one  on  whom  the  law  relied  to  prove  the 
crime,  and  fasten  it  upon  one  who  stood  high  in  the 
esteem  and  confidence  of  the  people,  and  who  was 
rising  rapidly  to  eminence  in  his  profession.* 

2.  The  power  of  memory.  It  would  be  well  for 
every  criminal,  to  forget  his  own  crimes.  Could  this 
be  the  case,  detection  would  be  much  less  certain,  as 
far  as  this  life  is  concerned.  The  man  who  has  been 
guilty  of  some  crime  will  frequently  act  in  a  suspi- 
cious manner.  He  wih1  exhibit  signs  of  guilt,  when 
none  around  him  suspect  him  of  being  involved  in 
crime.  He  will  dream  at  night,  and  start  up  with 
words  upon  his  lips,  which  he  would  not  care  to  have 
uttered.  He  will  shun  his  fellow-men  lest  they  see 
the  agony  of  his  heart  depicted  upon  his  countenance. 

*  Since  this  lecture  was  delivered,  the  providence  of  God  has 
unfolded  another  diabolical  attempt  to  murder  on  the  part  of 

C .    A  plan  deeply  laid  has  been  discovered  when  ready  to 

be  put  in  execution,  and  the  life  of  an  innocent  man  saved ;  while 
the  foul  murderer,  foiled  by  a  superior  wisdom,  and  baffled  by  the 
Almighty,  has  rushed  up  to  meet  his  Maker,  uncalled  and  unbid- 
den, a  melancholy  suicide. 


206  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

He  will  show  to  those  around  him,  that  something  is 
working  upon  his  mind,  and  preying  upon  his  heart. 
It  is  not  seldom  that  the  power  of  memory,  by  keep- 
ing the  fact  before  the  mind  of  the  criminal  himself, 
will  betray  him,  and  well  would  it  be  for  every  man 
who  has  done  wrong,  if  he  could  blot  the  memory  of 
the  fact,  as  well  as  the  fact  itself,  from  the  tablets  of 
the  heart,  on  which  it  stands  recorded.  But  this  can' 
not  be  the  case.  The  lamp  of  memory  will  burn  as 
long  as  the  soul  of  man  endures  ;  it  will  stream  its 
lurid  light  over  every  act  of  guilt,  and  forever  flame 
with  fearful  intensity.  It  is  supposed  that  nothing 
can  be  lost  to  memory  ;  that  every  act  of  life  is  trea- 
sured up ;  that  every  thought  which  flits  through  the 
mind,  and  every  word  which  escapes  from  the  lips, 
makes  an  indelible  impression.  Though  at  times 
other  objects  may  engross  the  attention,  and  some- 
tunes  we  may  lose  entirely  all  recollection  of  what 
has  passed,  yet,  sooner  or  later,  memory  will  bring  it 
up  again.  From  her  chambers  where  they  have  been 
concealed,  but  not  destroyed,  will  past  crimes  start 
forth  and  hang  like  coals  of  fire,  upon  the  conscience 
and  the  heart.  I  have  been  told  by  those  who  have 
fallen  from  high  places,  or  crushed  in  whirling  ma- 
chinery and  exposed  to  sudden,  instant  death,  that 
in  a  space  of  time  inconceivably  short,  the  whole  life 
was  presented.  Deeds  long  forgotten  and  buried  out 
of  sight ;  words  whose  sounds  long  since  had  perish- 


THE  DETECTION   UP   SIN   CERTAIN.  207 

i 

ed ;  thoughts  which  had  not  been  cherished  for  years, 
came  rushing  across  the  mind,  and  in  an  instant 
thronged  before  the  mental  vision  with  startling  accu- 
racy. In  the  instant  of  time  which  was  required  by 
the  ponderous  wheel  to  turn  with  crushing  force,  the 
whole  of  this  life,  and  a  fearful  view  of  the  next, 
were  given,  and  an  age  of  misery  endured  in  a  single 
moment  of  time.  Nor  will  the  powers  of  memory 
ever  fail ;  as  each  age  of  the  future  expires,  and 
wave  after  wave  of  eternal  duration  sinks  back  upon 
the  shores  of  the  past,  memory  will  be  gaining  more 
fearful  power  over  those  who  have  made  earth  the 
theatre  of  crime.  This  awful  power  constitutes  the 
mirror  of  the  soul,  which  grows  brighter  from  every 
impression  made  upon  it.  It  will  contribute  essen- 
tially to  develop  crime,  and  uncover  deeds  of  dark- 
ness, which  all  the  ingenuity  of  the  criminal  has  been 
unable  to  hide.  It  will  expose  to  the  public  gaze, 
men  who  have  long  and  fondly  hoped  for  perfect 
security,  and  lay  open  to  the  hand  of  justice,  and  the 
ministers  of  the  law,  the  criminals  who  have  enjoyed 
their  ill-gotten  gains  in  fancied  security. 

3.  The  upbraidings  of  conscience.  Conscience  is 
the  voice  of  God  in  the  human  soul.  It  is  a  principle 
implanted  by  the  Almighty,  within  the  bosom  of  every 
human  being,  to  teach  him  what  is  right  and  what  is 
wrong.  When  a  man  performs  that  which  is  accep- 
table to  God,  conscience  will  approve,  and  when  he 


208  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

violates  the  law  of  God,  this  faithful  monitor  will  utter 
its  admonition  and  speak  out  its  condemnation.     The 
power  of  conscience,  of  remorse,  is  great ;  and  the 
most  remarkable  instances  are  on  record,  in  which 
conscience  has  led  the  criminal  to  betray  himself  and 
confess,  not  onlj  to  God,  but  to  man,  the  wrong  which 
he  has  committed.     I  remember  having  heard  of  a 
man  who  in  early  life,  was  induced  to  rob  his  own 
father,  by  which  the  poor  man  was  brought  to  bank- 
ruptcy and  death.     The  son  enjoyed  his  treasure  for 
awhile,  but  conscience  was  busy  at  work  upon  his 
mind.     His  crime,  his  fearful  crime,  was  continually 
before  him.     True,  he  did  not  fear  detection.     He 
had  buried  all  traces  of  his  deed  so  deeply,  that  he 
supposed  no  person  could  find  it  out,  but  his  own  un- 
natural conduct  was  a  greater  source  of  trouble,  than 
all  the  fears  of  discovery.     To  drive  away  these  feel- 
ings, he  left  the  scenes  of  his  infancy  and  childhood  ; 
plunged  into  business ;  buried  himself  up  in  the  cares 
of  the  world,  and  in  every  way  possible,  endeavored 
to  drown  the  voice  which  uttered  its  ceaseless  up- 
braidings.     But  every  attempt  proved  to  be  a  failure. 
The  form  of  his  aged  sire,  as  he  went  down  to  the 
grave,  wronged  of  his  property,  and  sorrow-stricken, 
was  before  his  mind.     He  heard  one  voice  —  he  saw 
one  object  —  he  felt  one  pang.     It  was  the  voice,  the 
reproach,  the  condemnation  of  conscience.     Twenty 
years  rolled  away,  and  his  misery  had  become  so 


THE   DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN.  209 

great,  that  he  came  forward  and  confessed  his  crime. 
To  the  members  of  his  own  family,  some  of  whom  had 
been  born  since  the  wrong  was  committed,  he  unfold- 
ed the  story,  and  then  gave  himself  up  to  the  officers 
of  justice.  I  doubt  not,  there  are  some  in  every  com- 
munity who  suffer  from  the  reproaches  of  conscience. 
Concealed  crime  festers  on  the  heart,  and  produces  a 
wound  which  no  hand  can  heal.  Under  the  power 
and  influence  of  this  terrible  attendant,  the  most  ag- 
gravated crimes  have  been  confessed  and  punished. 
Murderers  and  robbers,  seducers  and  forgers,  have 
come  forward,  and  without  hesitancy  declared  their 
guilt,  and  asked  of  the  courts  of  justice,  the  sentence 
of  the  law.  The  deed,  forgotten  by  all  but  the  crimi- 
nal, has  been  told,  and  the  miserable  one  himself  has 
desired  punishment,  as  the  only  means  of  relieving 
his  conscience  of  its  torturing  load  of  sorrow. 

4.  TJie  providences  of  G-od.  In  a  most  wonderful 
manner,  the  providences  of  God  work  out  his  designs. 
When  we  contemplate  the  way  in  which  the  Almighty 
deals  with  his  creatures,  we  are  surprised.  At  first, 
there  appears  to  be  no  order,  no  design,  no  harmony, 
in  all  his  mysterious  workings.  The  law  of  confusion 
reigns  among  men,  and  we  can  see  but  little  order  in 
the  system  of  divine  providence.  But  as  we  gaze, 
and  study ;  as  we  watch  the  unfolding  plan  and  pur- 
pose ;  as  we  learn  more  of  God  and  his  ways,  we  are 
surprised  more  at  the  order  and  harmony,  than  we 
14 


210  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

previously  had  been  at  the  apparent  disorder  and  con- 
fusion. We  find  the  whole  system  of  divine  opera- 
tions to  be  regulated  by  an  unerring  hand,  and  con- 
troled  and  governed  by  almighty  power.  We  see  the 
plan  of  God  opened,  and  rendered  successful.  Provi- 
dences which  have  been  as  dark  as  midnight,  are  now 
illustrated  and  made  to  show  forth  the  praise  of  God, 
and  surprising  order  is  seen  in  all  the  wise  arrange- 
ments. 

In  the  most  mysterious  manner  does  the  providence 
of  God  sometimes  expose  crime.  A  train  of  events 
which  no  human  being  could  have  set  in  operation, 
leads  to  the  most  startling  developments,  and  crimi- 
nals who  have  eluded  the  pursuit,  and  even  the  obser- 
vation and  suspicion  of  a  most  vigilant  police,  are 
discovered  and  punished,  after  all  hope  of  detection 
had  died  out.  The  most  trifling  circumstances  will 
be  connected  with  a  series  of  events  which  develop 
and  bring  to  light,  deeds  which  have  for  years  been 
buried  from  all  human  scrutiny.  The  singular  move- 
ments of  some  domestic  animals ;  the  words  written 
upon  the  wadding  of  some  discharged  gun  ;  the  cav- 
ing in  of  banks,  in  the  sand  of  which  dead  bodies 
have  been  buried,  and  other  things  as  trivial,  lead  to 
the  detection  of  men  who  suppose  they  have  con- 
cealed all  tokens  of  guilt  in  the  graves  of  their  vic- 
tims. And  this  providence  will  assist  in  the  detec- 
tion of  all  other  criminals  of  smaller  or  greater  guilt. 


THE  DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN.  211 

God  is  pledged  against  sin  ;  he  abhors  crime,  and  is 
resolutely  determined  to  punish  all  who  commit  it. 
His  providence,  like  a  key,  will  unlock  the  secrets  of 
darkness,  and  like  a  skilful  hand,  will  unravel  the 
thread  of  life,  and  expose  when  least  we  expect  it, 
its  follies  and  crimes.  Nor  can  the  sinner  control 
these  mysterious  workings  of  the  divine  mind  and 
purpose.  What  we  may  deem  best  calculated  to 
hide,  conceal,  and  cover  up  our  sins,  may  be  the  very 
thing  which  shall  expose  our  faults,  and  bring  shame 
and  disgrace.  Letters  written  and  disguised ;  re- 
marks made  to  direct  attention  to  another  quarter ; 
weapons  thrown  into  the  bushes  by  the  wayside,  all, 
instead  of  proving  innocence,  become  proofs  of  guilt, 
and  are  used  for  a  purpose  the  reverse  of  which  was 
intended.  It  is  related  of  an  eminent  clergyman, 
that  on  one  occasion  while  walking  in  a  graveyard, 
he  saw  the  sexton  throwing  up  the  bones  of  a  human 
being.  He  took  the  skull  in  his  hands,  and  on  exam- 
ination, saw  a  nail  sticking  into  the  temple.  He 
drew  it  out,  placed  it  in  his  pocket,  and  asked  the  sex- 
ton whose  skull  it  was.  On  receiving  the  necessary 
information  he  went  to  the  house  of  the  widow,  and 
entered  into  conversation  with  her.  He  asked  her, 
of  what  disease  her  husband  died,  and  while  she  was 
giving  an  answer,  drew  the  nail  from  his  vest,  and 
asked  her  if  she  ever  saw  it  before.  Struck  with 
horror  at  the  unexpected  question,  the  wretched  wo- 


212  THE  YOUKTQ  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

/ 

man  confessed  that  she  murdered  her  husband ;  that 
her  own  hand  had  driven  the  nail  into  his  temple. 

5.  The  bed  of  death.  Hundreds  of  persons  pass 
through  life  unpunished,  and  though  surrounded  by 
observers  escape  detection,  until  they  come  to  the 
bed  of  death.  Hundreds,  when  they  arrive  at  the 
last  hour  of  probation,  and  stand  on  the  outward 
boundary  of  life,  are  compelled  by  the  awful  circum- 
stances in  which  they  find  themselves^  to  unburden 
their  souls  of  the  crimes  which  may  have  rested  there 
for  years,  and  which  now  come  up  from  the  deep  re- 
treats of  memory  to  sting  and  poison,  like  venomous 
serpents.  It  does  a  sin-agonized  spirit  good  to  con- 
fess, and  the  dying  hour  has  extorted  many  a  tale  of 
blood,  shame,  and  folly,  from  the  wretched  man  whose 
crime,  like  a  fire  shut  up  in  his  bones,  has  been  con- 
cealed only  that  it  may  be  revealed  at  last,  under  cir- 
cumstances of  greater  awfulness. 

Go  to  the  death-bed  of  the  wicked  man,  and  you 
will  hear  him  bewailing  his  sin.  All  his  life,  has  his 
heart  been  growing  harder  and  harder,  until  like 
steel  it  resisted  every  impression,  but  in  an  hour  it  is 
now  dissolved.  His  lips  have  never  been  attuned  to 
the  simple  melody  of  confession  or  prayer ;  but  now 
one  ceaseless  stream  of  confession  pours  from  him. 
This  sin  and  that,  this  folly  and  that,  rises  up  before 
him,  and  he  asks  forgiveness  of  God  and  man.  In- 
deed, the  soul  seldom  dares  rush  into  eternity  with  a 


THE  DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN.  213 

weight  of  sin  crushing  it  down.  The  dying  man 
would  make  clean  breast,  and  do  all  that  confession 
can  do  to  make  the  burden  less. 

To  such  a  death-bed  scene  -will  every  unrepentant 
sinner  come  ;  such  broken  confessions  will  be  the  lan- 
guage of  every  heart  which  is  not  renewed  and 
changed  by  God. 

Thus  far  I  have  spoken  of  the  detection  of  sin,  as 
probable.  The  probability  is  very  strong,  as  most 
criminals  find  it.  But  there  is  another  view  of  the 
subject ;  a  stronger  and  more  fearful  view,  to  which 
I  will  turn  your  attention. 

II.  THE  AWFUL  CERTAINTY.  The  language  of 
Scripture,  the  caution  which  it  gives  to  all,  is,  "  Be 
SURE  your  sins  will  find  you  out."  "  For  there  is 
nothing  covered  which  shall  not  be  revealed,  neither 
hid  which  shall  not  be  known."  On  this  point,  the 
Bible  leaves  no  chance  for  doubt,  no  opportunity  to 
cavil  or  dispute.  All  sin  shall  be  revealed.  Com 
mitted  in  the  darkest  night,  or  in  the  brightest  day ; 
in  the  desert  solitude,  or  in  the  crowded  city ;  with 
or  without  associates  ;  by  man  or  woman  ;  by  angel 
or  demon  —  it  will  not  escape  notice  —  it  will  not 
avoid  condemnation  and  punishment. 

1.  Because  every  sin  is  seen  by  God.  This  is  one 
of  the  most  fearful  considerations  which  can  be  pre- 
sented to  the  mind  of  the  sinner.  God  sees  him. 
The  eye  which  never  slumbers,  has  watched  all  his 


214  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

movements;  detected  all  Ms  faults,  and  beheld  all 
his  sins.  He  maj  have  concealed  them  from  father 
and  mother,  wife  and  child ;  on  earth  no  mortal  may 
tread,  who  has  the  least  suspicion  of  what  he  has 
done,  and  yet  all  is  known.  God's  eye  has  been  fixed 
upon  the  deed,  and  he  knew  it  all.  Darkness,  se- 
crecy, and  deception,  have  been  unable  to  hide  it 
from  his  view.  This  terrible  conviction  seemed  to 
press  upon  the  mind  of  David,  when  he  exclaimed, 
"  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  presence,  whither  shall 
I  flee  from  thy  Spirit.  Thou  art  in  heaven ;  thou  art 
in  hell ;  thou  art  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth. 
Darkness  hideth  not  from  thee  ;  light  is  ever  around 
thee  ;  the  night  shineth  as  the  day." 

With  the  same  propriety  every  sinner  may  use  this 
language,  and  apply  it  to  his  own  case  ;  God  is  every- 
where. He  sees  and  knows  all  things,  and  under- 
stands even  the  thoughts  of  his  creatures.  It  is  in 
vain  that  an  attempt  is  made  to  conceal  our  sins  from 
his  notice,  or  hide  them  from  his  gaze.  He  saw  our 
first  parents,  when  in  the  bowers  of  Eden  they  ate 
the  forbidden  fruit ;  he  saw  Cain,  when  with  wicked 
hand,  he  smote  his  brother,  and  slew  him ;  he  saw 
the  sins  of  the  old  world,  which  was  before  the 
flood ;  he  saw  the  sins  of  his  own  people,  the  Jews ; 
and  as  surely  does  he  see,  mark,  condemn  and 
punish  our  sins.  Hide  them  from  the  minions  of  the 
law ;  hide  them  from  the  good  and  holy ;  hide  them 


THE  DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN.  215 

from  loved  friends  and  hated  foes,  and  yet  you  can- 
not hide  them  from  the  eye  of  God.  Piercing  down 
through  the  realms  of  space,  the  awful  scrutiny  of  the 
Infinite  One  is  fixed  upon  us  all,  and  as  soon  can  we 
fly  from  our  own  existence,  as  from  the  gaze  of  Je- ' 
hovah. 

2.  All  sin  will  be  revealed  at  the  day  of  judgment. 
We  are  informed  in  the  inspired  word,  that  a  record 
of  all  the  deeds  of  men  is  kept ;  that  in  a  book 
of  remembrance,  all  the  good  and  evil  actions  of 
life  are  recorded.  What  that  book  of  remembrance 
is,  matters  not  to  us.  The  great  fact  that  our  accu- 
mulating sins  are  all  to  be  treasured  up,  and  at  last 
exposed,  is  a  terrible  one.  None  but  a  man  whose 
heart  is  hard,  or  whose  mind  is  darkened  'by  sin,  could 
reflect  upon  it,  without  serious  forebodings.  Nor  are 
the  circumstances  under  which  this  revelation  is  to  be 
made,  calculated  to  remove,  in  the  least,  the  sorrow 
of  such  an  occurrence.  We  are  led  to  believe  that  it 
will  take  place  at  the  hour  when  all  men,  from  all 
climes  have  assembled  before  God  ;  when  the  world 
which  we  now  inhabit,  and  which  has  been  increasing 
in  the  splendor  of  its  towns,  towers,  and  temples,  for 
ages,  is  all  wrapped  in  the  flames  of  the  last  confla- 
gration ;  when  the  moon  has  turned  to  blood,  and  the 
sun  has  gone  out  in  darkness,  and  the  stars  have 
fallen,  like  worlds  of  fire,  from  their  courses  on  high ; 
when  the  clouds  are  rolled  together  as  a  scroll ;  when 


216  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

from  their  long  resting-places,  the  dead  are  starting 
forth  to  life  and  immortality ;  when  the  righteous 
shall  be  shouting  notes  -of  glory  and  singing  anthems 
of  deliverance,  and  the  wicked  are  howling  in  the 
madness  of  despair ;  when  has  come, 

"A  scene  that  yields 

A  louder  tempest,  and  more  dreadful  fields ; 
The  world  alarmed,  both  earth  and  heaven  overthrown, 
And  gasping  Nature's  last  tremendous  groan ; 
Death's  ancient  sceptre  broke,  the  teeming  tomb, 
The  Righteous  Judge,  and  man's  eternal  doom." 

At  such  an  hour,  and  under  such  fearful  circum- 
stances, will  the  array  of  crimes  which  we  have  com- 
mitted, present  themselves  before  our  bewildered 
minds.  In  that  solemn  assembly  will  they  be  read 
in  the  hearing  of  the  whole  intelligent  universe. 
Then  will  parents  learn  for  the  first  time,  what  have 
been  the  lives  of  their  children ;  then  will  children 
see  how  many  errors  clustered  around  the  lives  of  pa- 
rents ;  then  will  wives  and  husbands,  brothers  and 
sisters,  learn  of  each  other  what  they  never  dreamed 
or  imagined  before,  and  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall 
be  made  known. 

I  well  know  that  with  many  persons,  the  idea  of  a 
future  judgment  is  rejected  as  absurd  and  ridiculous. 
Not  a  few  indulge  in  open  sport  with  the  solemn 
things  which  are  connected  with  it,  and  even  churches 
are  erected,  and  pulpits  built,  and  men  set  apart,  to 


THE  DETECTION   OF   SIN   CERTAIN.  217 

I 

silence  the  fears  which  the  Bible  gives  in  regard  to 
it.  And  yet,  as  true  as  there  is  a  God,  and  that 
God  is  the  author  of  his  own  inspired  word,  the  hour 
of  judgment  will  come.  Though  long  delayed  hy  the 
goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  the  hour  will  come.  The 
trumpet  of  the  archangel  will  startle  the  living  throng, 
and  awaken  the  pale  nations  of  the  dead.  The  great 
white  throne  will  be  erected ;  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked  will  be  separated,  and  the  winding  up  of  all 
things  will  come. 

And  now,  I  ask,  in  view  of  all  that  has  been  said 
this  evening ;  in  view  of  all  the  solemn  considerations 
which  I  have  presented,  should  not  the  young  cease 
from  crime  and  learn  to  do  well  ?  If  in  this  life, 
there  is  a  strong  probability,  and  in  the  life  to  come, 
a  positive  certainty,  that  sin  will  be  detected,  and  if 
detected,  punished,  should  not  those  who  are  engaged 
in  practices  which  they  know  to  be  wrong,  forsake 
them  ?  The  declaration  of  God  is,  "  Whoso  covereth 
his  sins  shall  not  prosper,"  and  this  declaration  has 
been  found  to  be  true  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  Crime 
may  prosper  for  awhile,  the  wicked  man  may  spread 
himself  like  a  green  bay-tree,  and  grow  tall  in  his 
iniquity,  but  erelong  the  hand  of  God  will  be  laid 
upon  him ;  his  dishonesty  and  criminality  will  be  ex- 
posed to  the  gaze  of  justice,  and  his  hopes  and  pros- 
pects of  success  will  wither  away. 

The  a-llseeing  eye  of  God  is  fixed  on  each  of  us 


218  TEE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

Our  hearts,  our  secret  thoughts,  are  known  to  Him. 
"We  could  not  if  we  would,  hide  a  single  feeling,  a 
single  motive,  a  single  desire.  What  folly  then,  to 
commit  sin  !  Darkness  and  night  cannot  hide  it ;  it 
will  be  exposed.  And  let  the  impression  rest  on  our 
minds  as  we  separate  this  evening,  that  the  wicked, 
the  vile,  the  abandoned,  the  murderer,  the  robber, 
the  adulterer,  are  not  to  be  judged  alone.  The  mem- 
bers of  this  congregation  will  stand  with  the  gathered 
millions,  who  come  from  all  the  ages  of  the  past  to 
receive  their  reward,  or  hear  their  doom.  On  that 
awful  day,  let  me  inquire,  where  according  to  your 
present  character,  you  will  stand  ? 

"  When  Thou  my  righteous  Judge  shalt  come 
To  take  thy  ransomed  people  home, 

Shall  I  among  them  stand  ? 
Shall  such  a  worthless  worm  as  I, 
Who  sometimes  am  afraid  to  die, 
Be  found  at  thy  right  hand  ?" 


LECTURE  X. 

THE    BIBLE    A    PERFECT     GUIDE. 
WHEREWITH  SHALL  A  YOUNG  MAN  CLEANSE  HIS  WAT?     BY 

TAKING    HEED   THERETO   ACCORDING   TO   THT  WORD. Psalm 

119:9. 

THE  question  proposed  is  of  considerable  im- 
portance, and  gathers  greatness  whenever  we  con- 
template the  duties  and  dangers  of  young  people. 
Situated  as  they  are  in  life,  and  exposed  to  its  trials 
and  temptations,  they  need  an  infallible  guide,  an 
unerring  counsellor.  With  no  such  guide  and  coun- 
sellor, impelled  by  the  impetuosity  and  inexperience 
of  youth,  our  young  men  will  leave  the  beaten  paths 
to  success  and  greatness,  and  wander  about  in  the 
wilderness  of  disappointment.  No  judicious  mariner 
would  enter  a  dangerous  harbor  for  the  first  time,  or 
sail  up  a  river  which  has  sunk  thousands  of  vessels, 
without  a  pilot.  However  he  might  control  his  vessel 
while  out  upon  the  broad  ocean,  he  would  fear  lest 
his  ship  should  strike  on  some  hidden  rock,  or  some 


i 

220  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

concealed  bar,  and  gt>  to  pieces,  while  his  skill  would 
avail  nothing.  Hence,  when  he  arrived  at  the  en- 
trance of  such  a  harbor,  or  the  mouth  of  such  a  river, 
he  would  discharge  his  cannon,  and  hoist  his  signals, 
that  the  pilot  might  know  of  his  arrival,  and  come  to 
guide  him  into  port.  The  young  man  needs  a  guide 
over  the  ocean  of  life,  as  much  as  the  sailor  needs  a 
pilot  through  the  dangerous  passage,  or  up  the  rocky 
river.  And  where  can  such  a  guide,  such  a  pilot, 
over  life's  sea  be  found  ?  The  Bible  alone  presents 
a  perfect  standard  of  human  character,  and  a  per- 
fect guide  for  man  under  all  circumstances  of  life. 
Inspired  by  God,  and  written  out  by  holy  men,  it 
contains  no  errors,  and  admits  of  no  mistakes ;  it  pre- 
scribes with  great  distinctness  the  duties  and  obliga- 
tions of  the  aged  and  the  young ;  it  will  preserve  the 
•way  of  the  youthful  traveler,  to  his  journey's  end  ;  it 
will  elevate  the  mind,  improve  the  heart,  and  give 
gladness  to  the  spirit. 

You  will,  therefore,  allow  me  to  recommend  the 
Bible  to  young  men, 

I.    AS    A    PERFECT    GUIDE    IN    RELATION    TO    THE 

DUTIES  OF  LIFE.  The  duties  devolving  upon  us  in 
this  life,  are  numerous  and  important.  The  relations 
which  we  sustain  to  others,  place  us  under  obligation, 
and  this  obligation  is  nowhere  so  clearly  delineated, 
as  in  the  word  of  inspiration.  Of  importance  is  it, 
that  we  understand  what  we  owe  to  others,  and  what 


THE   BIBLE   A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  221 

they  owe  to  us.  A  duty  imperfectly  understood,  will 
be  imperfectly  performed,  and  if  we  have  no  guide 
on  subjects  of  such  magnitude,  we  shall  make  many 
mistakes  and  errors. 

1.  The  Bible  teaches  the  young  man  his  duty  to 
himself.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  young  man  to  be 
intelligent,  virtuous,  and  respectable.  In  our  days, 
immorality  and  ignorance  are  without  excuse,  and  the 
man  who  is  found  with  a  depraved  heart,  and  a  be- 
clouded mind  is  not  only  unfortunate,  but  guilty. 
There  was  a  time  when  man  could  be  ignorant  with- 
out sin,  but  in  the  centre  of  the  flood  of  light  and  in- 
formation which  is  poured  upon  the  world,  ignorance 
becomes  a  sin,  and  is  in  the  highest  degree  disgrace- 
ful to  all  who  are  found  in  its  fetters.  This  the  Bible 
teaches,  and  we  are  commanded  to  secure  wisdom 
and  knowledge,  and  ample  opportunity  is  given  us  in 
the  works  of  nature  which  are  spread  out,  and  the 
sources  of  information  within  our  reach.  Most  per- 
sons suppose  the  Bible  requires  of  us,  nothing  in  re- 
gard to  literary  and  scientific  attainments  ;  that  we 
can  be  wise  or  ignorant  at  our  own  option  ;  but  this 
is  a  mistake.  Mind,  intelligent  mind,  is  one  of  God's 
most  precious  gifts  to  man,  and  he  demands  of  us  the 
full  improvement  of  it. 

The  cultivation  of  self-respect  is  also  enjoined  by 
the  Bible,  and  certain  principles  are  established,  by 
the  observance  of  which,  a  young  man  may  respect 


222  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

himself,  and  secure  the  approbation  of  all  good  men. 
Every  person  is  under  obligation  so  to  live,  that  he 
can  look  upon  his  own  conduct  and  character  with 
feelings  of  respect,  and  not  shame  and  mortification. 
The  Bible  does,  indeed,  forbid  our  estimating  our- 
selves more  highly  than  we  ought  to  do,  forbids  our 
attaching  an  undue  importance  to  our  own  works,  but 
it  nowhere  forbids  self-respect,  nowhere  discourages  a 
laudable  attempt  to  secure  the  well  wishes  of  others. 
There  is  a  conscious  dignity  of  character,  differing 
from  pride  and  selfish  esteem,  which  is  one  of  the 
safeguards  of  youth.  It  gives  a  feeling  of  manliness, 
and  enables  its  possessor  to  repel  the  assaults  of  temp- 
tation and  «in,  and  stand  erect  amid  descending  tor- 
rents of  abuse,  supported  by  the  fact  that  he  has  a 
reputation  to  sustain,  a  character  to  lose  or  keep. 

The  pursuit  of  happiness  is  also  required  by  the 
Bible.  The  avenues  which  lead  to  it,  are  all  laid 
open  to  the  youthful  seeker,  and  he  can  enter  them 
and  secure  the  prize.  The  Bible  instead  of  forbid- 
ding, enjoins  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  in  any  reason- 
able way.  It  gives  permission,  even  to  the  Christian, 
to  secure  wealth,  honor,  health,  and  friends,  in  a 
proper  manner,  and  to  a  proper  extent.  It  only  con- 
demns and  prohibits  the  inordinate  and  destructive 
pursuit  of  things  in  themselves  valuable,  but  rendered 
worthless  by  being  too  eagerly  pursued,  and  too  fond- 
ly loved.  With  its  unerring  wisdom,  the  word  of  God 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  223 

has  drawn  the  line  between  all  that  is  good  and  all 
that  is  evil,  and  pointed  us  to  one,  and  lifted  up  its 
voice  against  the  other.  The  young  man  will  appeal 
in  vain  to  the  heathen  philosophy,  to  the  philosophy 
(so-called)  of  our  own  times,  to  the  example  of  the 
wisest  and  best  men  who  have  ever  lived  on  earth, 
and  find  in  them  all,  no  perfect  model  for  his  imita- 
tion, no  perfect  guide  to  lead  him  on  to  success  and 
happiness.  But  in  God's  inspired  volume,  he  will 
have  a  faultless  instructor,  an  unerring  counsellor,  an 
unfailing  guide. 

2.  The  Bible  teaches  the  young  man  his  duty  to 
his  kindred  and  friends.  "Honor  thy  father  and  thy 
mother,"  is  one  of  the  ten  commandments  which  were 
given  with  smoke  and  flame  on  Sinai.  "  Children 
obey  your  parents,"  is  the  reiteration  of  that  sublime 
command,  given  under  the  more  gentle  light  of  the 
new  dispensation.  The  Old  and  New  Testaments 
alike  inculcate  the  duties  which  we  owe  to  those  who 
have  brought  us  into  being,  and  guided  us  up  through 
infancy  and  youth  to  manhood  and  womanhood.  The 
good  Book  has  many  a  precept,  enjoining  kindness  to 
our  aged  parents,  and  unlike  all  the  forms  of  heathen 
worship,  which  look  upon  the  aged  as  worthless  to, 
society,  requires  us  to  love  and  cherish  those  whose 
heads  are  white,  and  whose  limbs  are  feeble.  It 
gives  on  this  subject  no  uncertain  sound,  but  brands 
the  man  who  forsakes  his  father  and  mother,  and 


224  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

treats  them  with  cold  neglect,  or  cruel  unkindness,  as 
one  of  the  most  degraded  of  the  race. 

It  teaches  also  the  duties  which  devolve  upon  the 
husband  and  the  wife.  The  relations  which  exist  be- 
tween these  parties,  have  been  misunderstood  in  all 
ages.  In  past  times,  the  best  of  men  have  not  duly 
appreciated  the  God-appointed  institution  of  marriage, 
and  when  it  has  been  entered  into,  its  duties  have 
been  shamefully  disregarded.  Everywhere  but  under 
the  light  of  Christianity,  woman  has  been  degraded 
from  her. true  position,  denied  that  standing  for  which 
she  was  intended  by  her  Creator,  and  made  to  toil 
out  her  life  in  ignominious  servitude.  The  Bible  and 
volumes  founded  upon  it,  are  the  only  books  of  morals 
which  confer  upon  woman  her  real  rights,  and  place 
her  by  the  side  of  man  as  his  equal.  The  Bible  alone 
commands  the  husband  to  love  the  wife,  and  support 
and  cherish  her.  Other  systems  of  morality,  agree 
with  the  Bible  in  enjoining  obedience  upon  her,  but 
leave  the  husband  to  act  the  tyrant  at  his  will.  But 
the  Bible  while  prescribing  her  duties,  makes  his 
plain  also ;  commands  him  to  be  kind  and  affectionate, 
and  leave  father  and  mother  and  cleave  to  her. 

The  Bible  is  also  a  guide  in  the  management  of 
children.  By  this  book  their  support  is  placed  upon 
the  father,  and  he  who  refuses  to  supply  the  wants 
of  his  own  family,  is  said  to  be  worse  than  an  infidel. 
How  children  should  be  educated  and  governed,  the 


THE   BIBLE  A  PEKFECT   GUIDE.  225 

rules  which  should  control  parental  authority,  are  all 
laid  down,  and  were  these  rules  obeyed,  we  should 
not  so  often  be  called  to  bewail  the  conduct  of  wicked 
children.  If  instead  of  unlimited  indulgence,  the 
chastening  rod  was  oftener  used  ;  if  instead  of  being 
blinded  to  all  the  faults,  and  alive  only  to  the  virtues 
of  the  children,  parents  would,  or  could  look  upon 
them,  as  others  see  them,  and  have  an  eye  open  to 
their  vices  as  well  as  their  virtues,  they  might  save 
themselves  many  an  hour  of  tears  and  lamentation. 
If  instead  of  abusing  their  children  with  blows  one 
minute,  and  smothering  them  with  kisses  the  next, 
making  fearful  threatenings  one  day,  and  unreason- 
able promises  the  next,  parents  would  comply  with 
the  plain  and  obvious  teachings  of  Scripture,  they 
and  their  children  would  be  far  happier.  Many  of 
the  best  and  kindest  parents  among  us,  are  educating 
their  children  for  prisons,  almshouses,  and  scaffolds ; 
bringing  them  up  to  manhood  with  passions  unbridled, 
temper  ungoverned  and  ungovernable,  and  moral 
principles  but  half  cultivated.  Could  such  parents 
look  forward  to  the  future,  and  see  what  would  trans- 
pire after  they  are  laid  in  the  grave,  or  perhaps  be- 
fore that  time,  could  they  see  their  children  wretched 
and  miserable,  on  account  of  the  indulgence  of  youth, 
they  would  be  appaled,  and  start  back  as  from  a 
vision  of  despair. 

3.  The  Bible  teaches  the  young  man  his  duties  to 
15 


226  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

his  fellow-men.  By  the  wise  decree  and  arrange- 
ment of  God,  man  is  made  dependent  upon  his  fellow* 
man.  The  king  on  his  throne  is  as  dependent  as  the 
slave  who  kneels  at  his  feet,  and  the  boast  of  freedom 
and  independence,  in  a  strict  sense,  is  idle.  Nations 
are  dependent  upon  each  other.  America  and  Eu- 
rope, are  somewhat  dependent  upon  poor,  downcast 
Africa,  and  superstitious,  unenlightened  Asia ;  and  the 
nation  which  should  attempt  to  live  without  the  assist- 
ance of  any  other  nation,  would  soon  fall  into  barba- 
rism. Much  of  our  food  and  clothing  come  from  other 
climes,  and  should  we  discard  all  but  our  own  produc- 
tions, we  should  return  to  the  ignorance  and  degrada- 
tion of  our  aboriginal  inhabitants.  Individuals  are 
as  dependent  upon  each  other,  as  are  nations.  If  we 
were  equal,  independent  of  each  other,  who  would 
manufacture  the  fabric  of  which  our  dresses  are  made  ? 
who  would  build  our  houses  ?  who  would  brave  ocean 
to  bring  our  food  from  afar  ?  who  would  dig  our  ca- 
nals, build  our  railroads  and  steamboats,  and  provide 
for  the  wants  of  the  masses  of  society  ?  Under  such 
a  state  we  should  see  each  man  building  his  own 
house,  weaving  his  own  dress,  cooking  his  own  food, 
spreading  his  own  blanket,  and  living  entirely  for 
himself.  The  sick  would  have  no  watcher,  no  kind 
hand  to  smooth  the  pillow  and  fan  the  throbbing  tem- 
ples, and  the  dying  would  lie  in  unburied  ghastliness. 
But  God  in  his  infinite  wisdom  has  otherwise  or- 


THE  BIBLE  A  PEEFECT  GUIDE.       227 

darned.  He  has  made  us  mutually  dependent  on 
each  other,  and  placed  in  each  human  bosom  a  moni- 
tor, which  recognizes  this  state  of  things,  and  impels 
us  to  fashion  our  lives  accordingly. 

Now  the  Bible  clearly  and  distinctly  makes  known 
to  us  the  duty  which  we  owe  to  others  around  us.  It 
does  not  leave  us  in  darkness  on  such  a  subject,  but 
points  out  the  line  of  conduct  which  as  parts  of  a  great 
brotherhood  we  are  bound  to  pursue.  The  Bible 
recognizes  each  man  as  a  brother  and  friend.  It  ad- 
mits certain  distinctions  of  condition,  but  not  of  fact ; 
admits  a  superiority  in  intellect,  in  property,  in  physi- 
cal strength,  but  not  in  blood,  and  bones,  and  heart ; 
admits  a  superiority  in  life,  in  progress,  in  thought, 
and  being,  but  not  in  birth,  or  in  death.  One  man 
is  king,  another  is  a  beggar ;  one  is  a  philosopher, 
another  is  an  unlettered  slave ;  one  is  a  man  of 
honor,  another  is  a  man  of  ignominy  and  shame,  but 
they  are  all  brothers  ;  the  king,  the  slave,  the  philoso- 
pher, the  pauper,  the  man  of  honor,  and  the  man  of 
disgrace,  are  brothers.  This  the  Bible  teaches,  and 
on  this  relationship  depend  certain  duties  which  the  in- 
spired writers  have  stated  for  our  instruction.  To- 
wards all  men  the  great  duties  of  kindness  and  for- 
bearance are  inculcated,  and  instead  of  the  old  thread- 
bare maxim,  "  Might  makes  right,"  we  have  given  us 
the  golden  rule,  "  Do  unto  others,  as  you  would  that 
others  should  do  unto  you."  Inspired  with  this  spirit 


228  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

the  early  believers  in  the  Bible  went  everywhere 
preaching  the  word ;  the  missionaries  of  our  times 
have  labored,  preached,  suffered,  and  died,  making 
sacrifices  for  the  good  of  others  ;  the  house  of  desola- 
tion and  poverty,  has  been  cheered,  and  the  tearful 
eye  of  the  mourner,  upturned  to  God  ;  human  society 
has  been  transformed,  and  the  most  desert  places  of 
the  world,  made  to  blossom  as  the  rose,  beneath  its 
divine  influence.  Whatever  is  good  and  excellent, 
lovely  and  pure,  and  heavenly  in  human  intercourse, 
we  owe  to  the  gospel  of  the  Son  of  God. 

4.  The  Bible  teaches  the  young  man  his  duty  to 
government.  In  the  times  of  the  Saviour,  the  Jewish 
nation  was  wearing  the  Roman  yoke.  The  people 
were  ruled  with  an  iron  hand,  and  made  to  pay  heavy 
taxes  to  support  the  splendor  and  pomp  of  the  impe- 
rial monarchs.  They  justly  deemed  this  taxation, 
this  iron  rule,  oppressive,  and  frequently  rebelled  and 
raised  an  insurrection  against  the  tyrants.  On  one 
occasion,  a  penny  was  brought  to  Christ,  bearing  the 
image  and  device  of  Rome.  "  Is  it  lawful  to  give 
tribute  to  Caesar,  or  not  ?"  they  asked.  The  reply 
of  Christ  is  full  of  wisdom,  prudence,  and  consistency. 
"  Render  unto  Caesar,  those  things  that  are  Caesar's, 
and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 

He  here  plainly  inculcates  the  duty  of  obedience  to 
the  existing  government.  The  Saviour  doubtless  shared 
in  the  opinion  generally  entertained  by  the  Jews,  of 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  229 

,the  injustice  of  Roman  tyranny,  but  while  they  were 
living  under  that  government,  enjoying  its  protec- 
tion, sharing  its  honors,  they  were  bound  to  support 
it.  While  they  were  protected  and  defended  by  the 
armies  of  Rome,  they  were  bound  to  obey  the  laws 
of  Rome.  In  other  places,  the  sacred  writers  refer 
to  the  example  of  Christ,  in  proof  of  his  obedience  to 
law  and  order.  We  do  not  find  him  inciting  insur- 
rections, or  raising  mobs  and  armies,  but  everywhere 
teaching  submission  to  civil  authority. 

Prayer  for  governments  and  rulers  is  enjoined  upon 
all  Christians,  and  the  great  duties  of  man  as  a  citi- 
zen are  recognized  throughout  the  whole  inspired 
word.  A  distinguished  writer*  upon  this  subject 
says :  "  When  men  unite  in  the  establishment  of  a 
government,  they  mutually  promise,  in  all  their  rela- 
tions with  each  other,  to  yield  obedience  to  certain 
fundamental  principles.  The  object  of  these  princi- 
ples is,  to  define  and  limit  the  power  of  the  magistracy, 
and  to  prescribe  the  manner  in  which  this  power  shall 
be  exerted.  The  enunciation  of  these  principles 
forms  what  is  called  a  constitution.  This  being  once 
established,  it  binds  all,  and  it  protects  all.  It  is  a 
solemn  and  mutual  contract  between  every  individual 
on  the  one  part,  and  the  whole  community  on  the 
other  part.  Upon  the  fulfilment  of  this  contract,  de- 
pends the  freedom  of  every  individual,  and  the  secu- 

*  President  Wayland. 


230   -  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

rity  of  his  rights,  whether  civil  or  religious.  We  can 
neither  assume  powers  not  conferred  upon  us  by  this 
instrument,  nor  refuse  to  carry  its  provisions  into  prac- 
tice, either  ourselves  or  by  our  agents,  without  a  vio- 
lation of  our  solemn  obligations.  It  matters  not  how 
overpowering  the  majority  by  whom  the  outrage  is 
committed,  nor  how  small  the  minority  whose  rights 
are  infringed,  nor  how  elevated  the  position  of  the 
functionary  by  whom  the  act  is  performed.  It  is  a 
crime  of  the  deepest  dye,  and  merits  and  should  meet 
the  sternest  reprobation  of  every  virtuous  man.  If, 
then,  such  be  the  responsibility  assumed  by  every 
citizen  of  a  free  government,  it  surely  becomes  him 
to  understand  the  provisions  of  that  instrument,  by 
which  this  responsibility  is  created." 

5.  The  Bible  teaches  the  young  man  his  duty 
to  Grod.  There  is  no  other  book  which  authorita- 
tively establishes  the  principles,  on  which  as  the  crea- 
tures of  God,  we  are  governed.  In  fact,  all  we  know 
of  God  with  any  degree  of  certainty,  is  drawn  from 
the  inspired  volume.  We  may  discern  something 
from  the  book  of  nature,  but  the  inscription  is  dim, 
and  we  are  liable  to  make  fearful  mistakes.  The 
whole  heathen  world  have  nature  in  all  its  most  beau- 
tiful forms,  and  day  by  day,  they  study  it,  but  does 
it  make  them  wise  ?  does  it  lead  them  to  right  re- 
sults ?  Not  at  all.  Instead  of  worshipping  the  great 
Jehovah,  they  adore  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  231 

bow  in  worship  before  the  creature  instead  of  the 
Creator.  From  nature  men  may  learn  that  the 
"  Great  Spirit"  is  good,  but  the  delightful  and  truth- 
ful views  of  Divinity  we  have,  could  never  be  learned 
from  the  singing  bird  or  the  waving  forest.  High 
mountains,  broad  plains,  and  sandy  deserts,  have  no 
voice  to  tell  of  Him  who  made  them,  beyond  the  bare 
fact  of  his  power  and  might. 

But  the  Bible  reveals  God  in  his  true  character,  as 
the  Father,  Saviour,  and  Sanctifier  of  his  people.  It 
also  marks  out  the  duty  of  man,  proclaims  the  neces- 
sity of  unqualified  submission,  and  having  proved  him 
a  sinner,  demands  his  acquiescence  in  the  way  of  sal- 
vation through  a  crucified  substitute. 

The  first  great  duty  which  is  revealed,  we  find  to 
be,  full  and  perfect  obedience  to  the  law  of  God. 
This  is  required  on  every  page  of  the  sacred  statute- 
book,  and  man  is  under  obligation  to  give  exact  and 
impartial  conformance  to  the  decrees  of  the  high 
chancery  of  the  universe.  Obedience  or  death,  is 
written  on  every  provision  of  the  law  of  Moses,  as 
with  a  pen  of  fire. 

The  second  duty  to  God  consists  in  entire  submis- 
sion to  all  the  dispensations  of  divine  providence. 
These  are  sometimes  adverse  and  dark.  We  fail  to 
behold  in  them,  the  wisdom  or  the  goodness  of  the 
Being  who  directs  and  controls  them.  As  they  come 
upon  us,  one  by  one,  we  are  apt  to  forget  the  charac- 


232  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

ter  of  Him  who  has  dealt  with  us,  in  such  an  aw- 
ful manner.  But  the  Bible  enjoins  implicit  sub- 
mission to  these  solemn  exhibitions  of  the  divine 
character.  It  shows  us  how  good  God  is,  even  in 
the  midst  of  our  sorrows ;  how  kindness  is  blended 
with  the  blow  which  falls  upon  the  wayward  child 
of  earth. 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way, 

His  wonders  to  perform ; 
He  plants  His  footsteps  in  the  sea, 
And  rides  upon  the  storm." 

Directed  by  this  book,  the  mourner  will  ascend  the 
mount  of  vision,  and  look  forth  upon  the  glorious 
scene  which  faith  presents.  His  little  sorrow  will  lie 
at  his  feet,  while  he,  with  uncomplaining  voice,  lifts 
up  his  heart  to  Hun, 

"  Who  doeth  all  things  well." 

The  third  great  duty  to  God,  is  faith  in  his  Son. 
Perfect  obedience  is  required,  but  never  has  been 
given  in  one  single  instance  by  mere  human  beings. 
Christ  alone  is  sinless  on  the  records  of  a  sinful  world. 
All  others  are  involved  in  the  great  transgression. 
Hence  faith  in  a  crucified  Saviour  has  been  enjoined, 
and  the  nature  and  object  of  this  faith  are  declared 
nowhere  else.  The  wisest  of  the  ancients,  never 
thought  of  such  a  mode  of  saving  sinners,  and  had  the 
world  been  without  a  revelation  from  God,  the  great 


THE   BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  233 

idea  contained  in  the  cross,  would  never  have  been 
known. 

From  the  brief,  hasty,  imperfect  view,  which  I  have 
given  of  the  Bible,  as  a  book  delineating  the  duties 
of  men,  we  see  its  value  and  importance.  Without  it, 
man  would  have  been  enveloped  in  gross  darkness, 
but  now  he  stands  in  the  sunlight  of  the  gospel.  The 
young  man  who  makes  the  Bible  the  guide  of  his 
youth,  need  not  mistake  any  path  of  duty  and  safety. 
That  blessed  book  will  teach  him  to  be  honest,  tem- 
perate, frugal,  industrious,  truthful,  and  pious.  It 
will  make  him  a  good  citizen,  a  faithful  friend,  a 
prudent  counsellor,  a  wise  law-maker,  a  benevolent 
philanthropist,  a  steadfast,  humble,  faithful  Christian. 
From  the  Bible  as  a  guide  in  all  matters  *)f  duty,  we 
turn  to  the  same  book, 

II.  AS  A  PERFECT  GUIDE  IN  ALL  CASES  OF  DAN- 
GER. Age  has  experience.  The  man  of  hoary  head 
and  bending  form,  has  seen  much  of  life.  He  has 
had  dealings  with  the  stern  realities  which  gather 
around  the  pilgrimage  of  earth,  and  is,  to  some  ex- 
tent, prepared  to  grapple  with  the  dangers  which 
attend  every  human  existence.  But  youth  is  without 
even  this  narrow  and  insufficient  safeguard.  It  has 
no  experience  of  its  own,  and  is  liable  to  run  into  dan- 
ger, as  well  as  mistake  the  path  of  duty.  Experi- 
ence makes  us  cautious.  The  aged  approach  every 
doubtful  object  with  hesitating  steps,  and  measure  the 


234  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

distance  before  them,  ere  they  advance.  But  youth 
sees  no  danger,  and  fears  no  disappointment.  The 
young  man  dreams  of  pleasant  fields,  sweet  flowers, 
gentle  streams,  green  meadows,  glittering  waterfalls, 
and  cloudless  days.  That  life  has  deserts,  high  rock- 
ribbed  mountains,  deep  and  dark  ravines,  quicksands, 
and  intricate  fastnesses,  he  does  not  seem  to  realize. 

You  have  seen  a  picture  of  some  city.  It  was 
a  beautiful  engraving,  and  well  proved  the  skill 
of  the  artist.  In  that  picture  you  might  have  seen 
high  towers,  gorgeous  dwellings,  splendid  temples, 
long  streets  well  laid  out,  and  rendered  beauti- 
ful by  waving  trees  and  blooming  flowers.  Such  a 
picture  makes  an  impression  upon  your  mind,  and 
your  reflections  upon  that  city  are  of  the  most  plea- 
sant character.  Years  roll  on  and  you  visit  the 
place,  and  find  yourself  sadly  disappointed.  The 
artist  had  presented  all  that  was  beautiful,  and  con- 
cealed all  that  was  hateful  and  odious.  True,  all 
that  he  had  represented  on  his  picture  is  there, 
and  more  besides.  The  tall  stately  spire,  surmount- 
ing an  elegant  temple  is  there;  but  when  the  sun 
goes  down,  that  tapering  finger  casts  its  shadow  along 
a  narrow,  filthy  street,  in  which  the  plague  would  be 
ashamed  to  make  its  home,  or  the  swine  to  roam. 
The  massive  tower  is  there ;  but  it  has  none  of  the 
beauty  with  which  the  skill  of  the  artist  adorned  it 
The  long  streets  are  there,  and  they  are  very  long 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.  235 

but  instead  of  beauty  appears  deformity.  All  is  noise 
and  confusion,  and  the  traveler  turns  from  it  to  his 
own  quiet  home. 

Young  people  look  at  the  picture  of  life,  and  see  all 
its  beauties,  while  defects  are  concealed,  and  conse- 
quently when  they  go  forth  and  gaze  upon  reality, 
they  are  disappointed  as  much  as  is  the  traveler 
while  visiting  the  city  of  which  I  have  spoken.  At  a 
distance  all  is  grand  and  gorgeous  as  the  picture  of  a 
nation's  capitol,  but  when  we  enter  the  winding  ave- 
nues of  society,  we  find  them  as  odious  and  dan- 
gerous as  the  winding,  crime-frequented  lanes  and 
streets  of  some  of  the  most  depraved  cities.  The 
disappointment  which  ensues,  causes  thousands  to  be- 
come vicious  and  dissolute.  They  find  dangers  where 
they  only  dreamed  of  safety,  and  are  bewildered  and 
amazed.  The  Bible,  if  carefully  studied,  and  strictly 
obeyed,  will  prove  a  safeguard  against  all  such  dan- 
gers, and  lead  the  young  man  through  life,  with  no 
loss  of  character  or  happiness. 

"  It  is  the  polar  star 

That  guides  the  pilgrim's  way 
Directs  his  wanderings  from  afar 

To  realms  of  endless  day ; 
Jt  points  the  course  where'er  he  roam, 
And  safely  leads  the  pilgrim  home." 

1.  The  Bible  will  save  young  men  from  dangerous 
error.  These  are  days  of  religious  error.  While  set 


236  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FKIEND. 

ence  is  advancing,  and  rendering  herself  more  secure, 
while  men  are  settling  down  on  true  and  sound  princi- 
ples, while  the  laws  -which  control  the  heaven  above, 
and  the  earth  beneath,  are  becoming  better  known, 
while  scientific  truth  has  few  opposers,  and  error  few 
advocates,  it  is  true  as  strange,  that  religious  errors 
are  multiplying,  and  twining  themselves  with  serpent- 
like  subtlety  around  the  affections  of  the  people. 
There  is  scarcely  a  doctrine  of  the  Bible  which  has 
not  been  denied,  and,  to  some  extent,  revelation  has 
been  shorn  of  its  beauty  and  dignity.  From  the  un- 
blushing infidel,  who  boldly  affirms  that  the  idea  of 
God  is  a  fable,  the  Bible  all  a  lie  of  practised  de- 
ceivers, to  the  erratic  but  sincere  seeker  for  truth, 
who,  while  he  believes  the  Bible,  interprets  it  as  he 
understands  it,  and  attempts  to  narrow  down  the  sub- 
lime objects  of  faith,  to  the  grasp  of  human  intellect, 
and  refuses  to  admit  any  truth  which  is  above  the 
comprehension  of  mere  human  reason.  The  world  is 
full  of  books  teaching  doctrines  as  false  as  the  Bible 
is  true  ;  absurd,  as  truth  is  plausible  ;  dangerous,  as 
the  way  of  life  is  safe.  Attracted  by  the  outward 
adornment  of  error,  the  young  receive  as  truth  that 
which  the  Bible  denounces  as  falsehood,  and  cling  to 
forms  of  deception,  fearfully  ruinous  to  the  immortal 
soul.  The  framers  of  erroneous  dogmas  have  adapted 
their  systems  and  creeds,  to  meet  and  take  advantage 
of  the  weakness  and  frailty  of  humanity.  They  have 


THE   BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  237 

advanced  sentiments  which  appeal  to  depraved  man, 
and  bend  to  his  carnal  inclinations.  They  hesitate 
not  to  say  to  the  vicious  and  degraded  criminal, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  surely  die."  They  calm  the  fears 
of  the  wanderer  from  God,  and  by  scattering  a  few 
artificial  flowers  in  his  path,  make  him  believe  he  is 
on  the  road  to  heaven.  Their  systems  are  like  splen- 
did tombs  in  groves  of  cinnamon  and  orange. 

Not  long  ago,  I  saw  a  splendid  sarcophagus  in 
a  retreat  away  from  the  world's  noise  and  confu- 
sion. The  white  marble,  the  overhanging  willow, 
the  skilful  chiseling,  the  beautiful  inscription,  the 
calm  tranquillity  of  the  spot,  and  the  mournful  asso- 
ciations connected  with  it,  all  added  melancholy  in- 
terest to  the  resting-place  of  the  dead.  So  beautiful 
was  the  external  appearance  of  the  charnel-house, 
that  an  experienced  critic  would  scarce  detect  the 
slightest  fault,  and  long  after  he  had  left  the  spot, 
the  skill  of  that  work  of  art  would  linger  in  the 
memory  of  the  stranger.  By  and  by,  a  stern  and 
swarthy  man  came  to  unldck  the  door,  and  reveal  the 
mystery  of  that  lone,  but  sacred  spot.  His  face  was 
sunburnt,  and  his  arms  uncovered.'  His  whole  de- 
portment gave  evidence  that  he  had  been  familiar 
and  hardened  to  funereal  woe.  With  a  violent  move- 
ment he  threw  open  the  iron  door,  and  we  stood  be- 
fore the  entrance.  Slowly  we  descended  into  the 
vault,  and  found  ourselves  among  the  dead.  How 


238  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

changed  !  From  the  walls  the  grave  sweat  was 
oozing  forth  ;  the  rough  stone  floor  was  covered  with 
human  bones  ;  one  coffin  was  filled  with  dust,  and  de- 
cayed limbs,  another  was  loathsome  with  corruption, 
while  in  a  third,  reposed  the  form  of  one  who  had  just 
been  interred,  the  pale  and  lifelike  corpse  of  a  beau- 
tiful woman.  The  horrid  effluvia,  the  sight  of  corrup- 
tion, soon  drove  us  out  into  the  open  air,  and  the  door 
was  shut.  Again  we  looked  upon  the  beautiful  monu- 
ment, and  read  the  lofty  inscriptions,  but  there  was 
no  beauty  left.  We  had  seen  the  inside  of  the  vault, 
and  when  we  gazed  upon  the  exterior,  its  chiseled 
form  seemed  to  stand  in  awful,  mockery  of  the  sights 
of  woe  within. 

So  with  false  religion.  It  is  a  sarcophagus.  The 
hand  of  some  master-workman  has  been  employed 
upon  it,  and  on  its  front  are  sublime  inscriptions, 
which  men  love,  because  they  compliment  our  nature, 
fallen  and  depraved  as  it  is.  But  whoso  entereth  the 
charnel  will  find  it,  not  a  spacious  cathedral,  with  its 
altar-fire  burning,  and  its  sweet  choir  chanting  some 
sacred  song,  and  its  worshippers  bending  in  humble 
adoration  before  the  great  God,  but  a  house  of  death, 
whose  walls  sweat  drops  of  corruption,  whose  floor  is 
covered  with  its  own  decayed  substances,  and  whose 
tenants  lie  in  ghastly  silence,  without  spiritual  life  or 
vigor. 

The  religion  of  the  Bible  is  far  different.     Its 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  239 

beauty  is  not  seen  until  we  pass  the  outer  wall,  and 
enter  the  secret  chambers  of  holiness.  To  the  eye  of 
the  mere  worldling  it  stands  like  some  frowning  castle, 
which  has  defied  the  assaults  of  time  and  change,  and 
in  impregnable  strength  looks  down  from  the  moun- 
tain upon  the  plains  below.  It  appears  stern,  and 
awful  in  its  might,  and  at  a  distance,  seems  to  the 
traveler  a  huge  pile  of  immovable  rocks,  amid  which, 
could  he  climb  so  high,  he  would  find  but  little  to 
arrest  his  attention  or  employ  his  time.  But  let  him 
ascend  the  hill,  let  him  climb  the  bare  and  rugged 
side  of  the  mountain,  and  as  he  approaches  the  vener- 
able structure,  its  beauty  will  begin  to  appear,  and 
what  from  afar  seemed  great  rocks  piled  together 
without  order,  now  assumes  a  form  of  architectural 
beauty  and  grandeur.  Let  him  enter  the  open  gate, 
and  explore  the  concealed  chambers  and  halls,  and 
he  will  find  himself  in  the  midst  of  unsurpassed  excel- 
lence. As  he  advances,  instead  of  confusion  and  de- 
cay, will  he  see  order  and  life,  and  each  step  will  re- 
veal to  him  some  form  of  more  dazzling  glory  than 
the  other.  The  fortress  is  changed  in  his  estima- 
tion to  a  gorgeous  palace,  fit  residence  for  imperial 
monarchs. 

Such  being  the  case,  it  is  wise,  it  is  safe,  to  make 
the  Bible  our  guide  in  all  matters  of  sacred  truth. 
Coming  from  God,  it  admits  of  no  mistakes,  and  is 
a  sure  word  of  prophecy,  profitable  in  all  things. 


240  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FKIEND. 

Guided  bj  other  books  men  make  fatal  errors,  and 
plunge  headlong  to  destruction  ;  guided  by  this,  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest  will  soon  be  found.  Let  me 
then  exhort  young  men  to  embrace  no  doctrine  which 
this  book  condemns.  Study  it  for  yourselves,  and 
take  not  the  opinions  of  any  man,  unless  you  find  them 
sustained  and  revealed  by  God.  The  Bible  was  not 
designed  for  the  scholar  alone  ;  it  was  written  by  God 
for  common  people ;  to  be  understood  by  common 
people;  and  generally  the  interpretations  given  by 
common  people  accord  best  with  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus.  The  great  duties  which  are  essential  to  man's 
salvation  are  revealed  as  clear  as  noon-day,  and  those 
who  mistake  them,  are  blinded  by  sin,  or  prejudiced 
by  error.  Men  do  not  come  to  so  many  contradictory 
opinions  because  they  find  them  in  the  Bible,  but  be- 
cause they  desert  the  Bible  and  wander  about  aided 
only  by  the  dim  lamp  of  reason.  They  forsake  the 
great  fountain,  and  drink  at  little  turbid  streams 
which  contain  poison,  and  produce  death. 

See  you,  yon  bright  sun,  casting  its  rays  upon  us  all ! 
So  bright  that  no  human  eye  can  gaze  upon  it.  The 
man  would  be  a  fool  who  should  close  his  windows, 
and  shut  out  the  light  of  day,  and  make  his  home 
dark  as  night,  and  then  light  one  little  taper,  in  hope 
to  read  more  clearly  than  by  the  light  of  the  "  king 
of  brightness."  So  he  exhibits  his  folly,  who  turns 
from  the  Bible  to  find  truth  in  works  of  human  device 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.       241 

and  origin.  They  are  like  the  taper  to  the  sun,  and 
compared  together  the  difference  is  as  great. 

2.  The  Bible  will  save  young  men  from  the  vices 
of  the  world.  In  regard  to  crime,  the  Bible  speaks 
clearly  and  with  decision,  and  whoever  reads  it,  will 
be  faithfully  warned.  With  this  volume  in  his  hands, 
no  vicious  man  can  be  innocent.  The  witnesses 
against  him  are  found  in  the  book  which  lies  upon  his 
table,  and  over  whose  pages  he  sometimes  bends. 
Whatever  the  crime  may  be,  it  is  condemned  and  de- 
nounced, and  the  severe  judgments  of  God  pronounc- 
ed upon  it. 

Thus  is  it  with  Sabbath-breaking.  "  Six  days  shalt 
thou  labor,  and  do  all  thy  work,  but  the  seventh 
day  is  the  Sabbath  of  the  Lord  thy  God."  Around 
one  seventh  part  of  our  time,  around  the  first  day, 
God  has  drawn  a  distinct  line,  separating  it  from, 
all  other  parts  of  the  week.  This  little  space  of 
time  he  has  reserved  for  himself,  and  enjoined  the 
performance  of  religious  duties,  and  the  relinquish- 
ment  of  all  labor.  He  has  declared  that  they  who 
violate  the  Sabbath  shall  not  prosper,  and  they  who 
profane  his  sanctuary  shall  not  be  innocent.  On  the 
observance  of  this  day,  the  Bible  is  explicit,  and  no 
man  can  labor,  or  give  the  day  to  pleasure  and  dissi- 
pation without  fearful  guilt.  We  are  taught  that  Je- 
hovah looks  down  from  heaven  with  abhorrence  upon  a 
man,  who  not  satisfied  Avith  laboring  and  striving  for 
16 


242  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEXD. 

gain  six  days,  not  content  with  giving  the  world  six 
parts  of  the  time,  bestows  upon  it  the  seventh  also ; 
steals  the  Sabbath  from  his  Maker,  and  profanes  ita 
holy  hours.  If  the  noise  and  confusion  of  earth  can 
ever  ascend  to  heaven,  what  feelings  must  the  angels 
have,  as  on  God's  day  they  kneel  before  Him  in 
speechless  adoration,  while  from  the  towns  and  cities 
below,  comes  up  the  sound  of  the  mechanic's  ham- 
mer, and  the  shout  of  the  pleasure-hunting  crowd. 

Should  we  attend  to  the  instructions  of  the  Bible, 
how  much  more  appropriately  would  the  Sabbath  be 
observed.  Now  too  many  employ  the  time  in  regu- 
lating their  accounts,  writing  letters  to  friends,  read- 
ing books  which  have  no  tendency  to  produce  reli- 
gious feelings,  and  others  labor  still  more,  about  their 
farms  or  in  their  workshops.  Experience  and  obser- 
vation teach  us,  that  this  is  not  only  wicked  but  alto- 
gether unprofitable.  I  doubt  not  that  many  a  failure 
is  the  consequence  of  book-keeping  on  God's  day; 
many  a  bill  is  unpaid  because  made  out  on  the  Sab- 
bath ;  many  a  plan  is  defeated  because  formed  in  for- 
bidden time.  God  overrules  all  things,  and  he  will 
defeat  all  attempts  to  make  money  in  his  own  time, 
and  for  one  dollar  which  a  man  gains  upon  the  Sab- 
bath, he  will  lose  ten,  at  some  other  time.  A  dis- 
tinguished lawyer  once  observed,  that  he  did  not  dare 
to  prepare  his  briefs  on  the  Sabbath,  for  as  often  as 
he  tried  it,  he  lost  his  case  during  the  week.  He 


THE   BIBLE   A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  243 

became  convinced  that  God  would  not  allow  his  day 
to  be  abused  and  violated  with  impunity,  and  as  a 
matter  of  selfish  policy,  deemed  it  wise  to  defer  all 
labor  until  Monday.  Statements  like  these  corres- 
pond with  my  own  experience,  and  I  have  observed 
that  Sabbath-labor  never  receives  the  Divine  blessing, 
and  long  have  I  expected  to  fail  in  plans  of  a  secular 
nature  which  may  have  been  formed  on  God's  day. 
He,  therefore,  who  observes  the  Bible  will  hallow  the 
Sabbath,  and  love  the  sanctuary;  he  will  delight 
when  it  arrives,  to  devote  it  to  religious  pursuits,  and 
though  others  toil  on  around  him,  he  will  rest. 

Thus  is  it  with  profanity.  "  Thou  shalt  not  take 
the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain,  for  the  Lord 
will  not  hold  him  guiltless  who  taketh  his  name  in 
vain."  But  a  moment's  thought,  will  show  that  pro- 
fanity is  awfully  prevalent.  Some  men  who  stand 
high  in  the  estimation  of  the  world,  who  have  wealth 
and  intelligence,  seldom  hesitate  to  blaspheme  the 
name  of  Deity.  The  language  of  profanity  is  as  com- 
mon as  any  other  expressions,  and  the  name  of  God 
and  of  Christ  are  openly  and  rudely  blasphemed. 
On  the  floor  of  our  national  Congress  what  is  due  to 
respectability  and  manliness,  has  so  far  been  forgotten, 
that  honorable  members  have  been  known  to  utter 
words  which  would  disgrace  a  hovel  of  drunkenness. 

From  my  own  observation,  and  the  testimony  of 
others,  I  am  led  to  believe  that  few  vices  are  more 


244  THE   YOUNG   MAN'S   FRIEND. 

common  among  young  men.  Persons  who  would  not 
commit  some  other  sins  are  betrayed  into  this,  and 
practise  it  frequently.  Indeed,  so  addicted  are  many 
to  the  practice,  that  they  do  not  know  when  they  are 
profane.  They  swear  at  times  when  they  are  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact,  and  often  use  oaths  which  they 
would  deny  having  uttered.  The  Bible  condemns 
profanity  as  wicked  and  foolish  ;  brands  it  with  Divine 
displeasure,  and  positively  forbids  its  use,  and  he  who 
lives  according  to  this  book  will  never  become  ad- 
dicted to  it.  There  is  something  monstrous  about 
it.  To  hear  a  man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils, 
who  is  crushed  before  the  moth,  calling  upon  God  to 
curse  himself,  or  his  wife,  or  his  child,  or  his  friend, 
is  sad  indeed.  And  yet  how  many  do  it  every  day ! 
And  should  God  answer  these  requests,  what  would 
be  the  result  ?  How  many  would  descend  with  oaths 
upon  their  lips  to  people  the  world  of  darkness  and 
despair  ? 

Profanity  is  a  useless,  vulgar,  wicked  habit.  It 
does  no  good,  and  much  evil,  and  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  God  can  be  seen  in  its  entire  prohibition. 
And  yet  with  God  against  it,  with  the  Bible  against 
it,  with  reason  and  respectability  against  it,  it  pre- 
vails extensively.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  see  some 
brutal  fellow,  with  his  team  loaded  far  too  heavily, 
and  he  cursing,  and  beating  his  horse  with  all  ven- 
geance. How  many  a  man  has  been  known  to  curse 


THE   BIBLE   A   PERFECT    GUIDE.  245 

the  sidewalk  against  which  he  happens  to  stumble, 
or  the  unconscious  door-step,  against  which  he  falls  ? 
How  often  do  we  hear  men  wishing  their  families  in 
hell,  and  calling  on  God  to  send  them  there  ?  doing 
this  too,  while  they  are  in  perfect  good  nature.  Pro- 
fanity is  abhorrent  to  God,  and  the  Bible  calls  upon 
all  men  to  forsake  it,  and  all  good  men  will  comply 
with  its  reasonable  requirements.  Cowper  speaks  of 
the  vice,  thus : 

"It  chills  my  blood  to  hear  the  blest  Supreme, 
Rudely  appealed  to  on  each  trifling  theme ! 
Maintain  your  rank ;  vulgarity  despise ; 
To  SWEAR  is  neither  brave,  polite,  nor  wise. 
You  would  not  swear  upon  the  bed  of  death ; 
Reflect !  your  Maker  now  could  stop  your  breath." 

Thus  is  it  with  dishonesty.  No  book  in  stronger, 
clearer  terms,  or  with  more  authority,  condemns  all 
falsehood,  and  tvrong,  than  the  Bible.  "  Thou  shalt 
not  steal"  —  '"All  liars  shall  have  their  part  in  the 
lake  which  burneth  with  fire,"  are  solemn  declara- 
tions of  the  inspired  volume,  and  he  who  secures 
property,  influence,  reputation,  or  anything  which 
does  not  belong  to  him,  in  a  dishonest  manner,  it  de- 
nounces with  great  severity.  Other  books  make  al- 
lowances for  certain  kinds  of  dishonesty,  practised 
under  certain  circumstances,  but  the  Bible  makes  no 
such  allowances.  They  sometimes  justify  deception 
in  trade  ;  a  little  stretching  of  the  truth  to  make  a 


246  THE  YOUNG   MAN'S   FRIEXD. 

good  purchase  or  sale  ;  a  little  elasticity  of  conscience 
in  cases  "where  pecuniary  gain  or  loss  is  involved ; 
but  the  Bible  does  no  such  thing.  Falsehood  is  false- 
hood, whether  pronounced  by  priest,  physician,  or 
civilian.  Theft  is  theft,  whether  committed  by  gen- 
teel merchants,  or  highway  robbers.  Crime  is  crime, 
whether  the  charge  be  made  against  the  possessor  of 
millions,  or  the  tattered  wretch  who  has  no  claim  to 
the  earth  beneath  him,  the  heavens  over  him,  or  the 
air  around  him.  Wrong  is  wrong ;  kings  on  their 
thrones,  warriors  at  the  head  of  marshalled  armies, 
statesmen  in  a  nation's  senate,  fair  women  with  jew- 
eled fingers  and  flowing  curls,  sires  and  sons,  mothers 
and  maidens,  cannot  make  wrong,  right.  There  are 
certain  immutable  principles  which  God  cannot  change 
without  reversing  his  whole  nature,  and  these  are 
among  them.  Hence,  the  Bible  demands  right  doing 
of  all  men,  and  condemns  wrong  in  unmeasured  terms, 
and  the  young  man,  who  has  made  that  book  the 
light  of  his  path,  and  the  guide  of  his  youth  will  do 
right.  There  may  be  a  momentary  profit  in  doing 
wrong  ;  a  present  good  in  dishonesty,  but  he  who  re- 
veres, loves,  and  obeys  the  Bible,  will  not  do  it, 
though  a  fortune  would  be  gained  by  it.  He  knows 
as  he  believes  the  good  book,  that  the  curse  of  hea- 
ven will  rest  upon  the  head  of  him  who  departs  from 
rectitude,  and  though  he  may  prosper  for  awhile  he 
will  ultimately  fall. 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.       247 

Thus  is  it  with  immorality.  This  vice  is  clearly 
and  plainly  delineated,  and  its  awful  enormity  ex- 
posed. No  shade  of  the  horrid  crime  has  been  left 
untouched  by  the  sacred  penmen,  and  the  most  blind- 
ed worshipper  of  the  world,  cannot  fail  to  see  it,  in 
its  true  colors.  The  novice  cannot  deceive  himself,  or 
be  deceived  by  others,  if  he  will  look  into  the  perfect 
law  of  liberty,  and  whoso  pleadeth  ignorance  is  guilty 
not  only  for  the  crime,  but  for  the  very  ignorance 
which  Jie  deems  his  excuse.  Nor  does  the  Bible 
merely  forbid  this  vice ;  it  goes  further  and  holds  it 
up  to  the  derision  of  all  virtuous  men  ;  it  makes  it 
look  hideous  and  ghastly ;  clothes  it  in  robes  of  death ; 
and  suspends  over  the  head  of  the  guilty  one,  its  fear- 
ful penalties.  Its  requirements,  are  no  half-way  ones. 
They  demand  perfect  purity  of  deed,  word,  and 
thought ;  they  require  stainless  character.  And  well 
that  it  should  be  so.  A  bqok  of  morals  should  draw 
the  line  with  unerring  distinctness,  so  that  none  can 
cross  it  without  feeling  that  he  is  on  forbidden  ground. 
Did  Scripture  leave  all  these  matters  vague  and  un- 
certain, we  should  be  like  men  standing  where  four 
roads  meet,  not  knowing  which  one  to  take,  or,  like 
a  man  on  the  ocean,  without  a  compass,  in  a  starless 
night.  Thanks  to  God  !  he  has  not  left  us  in  dark- 
ness. A  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  and  a  cloud  by  day, 
move  along  the  pathway  of  man,  and  if  he  follows 
that  pillar  of  fire  and  cloud,  he  will  reach  the  land  of 
promise. 


248  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

3.  The  Bible  will  save  young  men  from  misery. 
Man  is  immortal ;  he  will  live  forever.  A  few  years 
of  his  existence  are  to  be  spent  on  the  shores  of  time ; 
the  remainder,  the  countless  ages  of  immortality  are 
to  be  spent  beyond  thet  grave.  Now  it  is  the  aim  of 
man  to  be  happy  in  time  and  in  eternity.  All  wish 
to  be  happy,  though  some  pursue  the  road  to  wretch- 
edness. The  Bible  tells  us  how  we  may  avoid  misery 
and  secure  happiness ;  it  marks  out  the  line  of  con- 
duct in  this  life,  that  we  may  be  happy  here  and 
hereafter.  To  be  happy  in  this  life,  it  shows  us  the 
necessity  of  being  virtuous.  Crime  is  attended  even 
in  this  life  with  punishment,  and  no  vicious  man  will 
long  escape  the  consequences. 

The  drunkard  is  punished  ;  he  is  miserable.  His 
crime  brings  countless  evils  on  his  head,  and  involves 
him  in  shame  and  disgrace.  He  suffers  intensely 
when  the  effect  of  intoxication  has  passed  away,  and 
his  sober  moments  return.  He  then  feels  that  "  the 
way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard,"  and  sighs  to  escape 
from  the  chains  of  vice.  He  feels  the  sting,  and  in 
this  life,  has  awful  foretastes  of  the  second  death. 

The  gambler  is  miserable.  His  conscience  will  dis- 
turb him,  and  when  away  from  his  boon  companions, 
he  will  hear  the  voice  of  some  starving  wife  and  child, 
whose  bread  he  has  stolen  away.  He  must  live  in 
the  midst  of  excitement  to  drown  the  voices  which 
whisper  in  his  ears  such  awful  words.  He  dares  not 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.       249 

be  alone,  for  spectre  forms  gather  around  him,  and 
sometimes  mock  him,  and  feeling  for  his  throbbing 
heart,  shake  it  in  their  iron  grasp. 

The  sensualist  is  miserable.  "  There  is  no  peace 
to  the  wicked,  saith  my  God,"  and  until  a  man's  con- 
science is  entirely  seared  he  -will  have  no  rest  in 
crime.  Now  the  Bible  informs  us,  that  to  avoid  the 
consequences  of  crime,  we  must  avoid  the  crime  itself. 
Misery  is  the  result  of  crime,  and  he  is  unwise  who 
expects  to  find  one  without  the  other. 

But  men  are  not  subject  to  misery  in  this  life  alone. 
The  future  will  be  divided  into  different  states  and 
conditions,  and  some  will  enjoy,  and  others  will  suffer. 
The  Bible  reveals  this,  and  teaches  us  how  we  may 
avoid  sorrow.  Suffering  in  another  world  is  the  con- 
sequence of  sin,  and  some  remedy  for  the  evil  must 
be  found.  The  Bible  presents  it.  It  holds  up  the 
cross  ;  shows  a  crucified  Saviour ;  gives  us  an  aton- 
ing sacrifice.  The  burdened  sinner  might  search 
through  the  whole  labyrinth  of  heathen  philosophy  in 
vain,  to  find  an  answer  to  the  question,  "  How  can 
man  be  just  with  God  ?"  Nature,  philosophy,  science 
and  art,  are  all  mute  on  this  awfully  important  theme. 
They  shed  not  one  ray  of  light  upon  the  subject  of 
the  soul's  salvation.  They  are  dumb  when  man  most 
needs  instruction,  and  to  every  one  who  asks,  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  they  hang  their  heads  in 
silence. 


250  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

From  them,  -we  turn  to  the  Bible,  and  find  our 
questions  answered,  our  doubts  removed.  Man  can 
be  just  with  God  through  the  sufferings  and  death  of 
the  Incarnation  ;  he  may  be  saved  by  trusting  in  the 
cross  of  Christ.  Herein  is  the  Bible  most  valuable. 
It  brings  life  and  immortality  to  light ;  unfolds  the 
way  of  hope  ;  dissipates  the  dark  shadows  which  hang 
over  the  path  of  man.  The  Bible  is  valuable  as  a 
book  of  history,  as  a  book  of  science,  but  more  valu- 
able as  a  book  of  LIFE,  teaching  how  the  sinner  may 
become  a  saint,  and  his  name  recorded  on  high. 

"  Let  all  the  heathen  writers  join 

To  form  one  perfect  book ; 
Great  God,  if  once  compared  with  thine, 

How  mean  their  writings  look  ! 
Not  the  most  perfect  rules  they  give, 

Could  show  one  sin  forgiven ; 
Nor  lead  a  step  beyond  the  grave ; 

But  thine  conducts  to  Heaven." 

Did  Socrates  or  Plato  ever  tell  their  disciples  how 
the  stains  of  guilt  could  be  removed,  and  peace  and 
pardon  procured  from  God  ?  No,  all  was  dark  to 
them,  as  to  the  men  of  Africa  now.  They  conjec- 
tured and  surmised,  but  knew  nothing.  Death  was  a 
dark  line  which  separated  certainty  from  uncertainty, 
and  when  that  line  was  crossed,  the  philosopher  could 
go  no  further.  Beyond  death,  all  was  darkness. 
But  the  gospel  opens  to  us  the  whole  matter,  and 


THE   BIBLE   A   PEKFECT   GUIDE.  251 

settles  at  once  all  the  doubts  of  infidelity,  and  the 
jeers  of  scepticism.  What  wonder,  then,  that  we 
should  love  the  Bible  ?  What  wonder  that  vre 
should  make  it  the  guide  of  our  youth,  and  the  com- 
panion of  our  old  age  ? 

"  Holy  Bible !    Book  Divine  ! 
Precious  treasure !  thou  art  mine !" 

Such  being  the  character  of  the  Bible,-  such  a  guide 
in  duty  and  in  danger,  it  deserves  our  attention,  and 
as  young  men,  forming  our  opinions,  and  striving  for 
usefulness,  we  should  often  consult  its  sacred  pages. 
Sad  mistakes  are  everywhere  else,  but  there  are 
none  here. 

Having  considered  the  Bible  as  a  perfect  guide  in 
all  cases  of  duty  and  danger,  I  will  close  this  dis- 
course with  a  few  remarks  which  I  deem  calculated 
to  deepen  any  impression  which  may  have  been  made 
upon  the  mind,  and  inspire  a  deeper  regard  for  the 
sacred  Arolume. 

1.  All  good  men  and  many  great  men,  have  studied 
it,  and  loved  it.  I  know  good  men  might  have  been 
deceived  in  regard  to  the  contents  of  the  Bible  ;  they 
may  have  placed  a  wrong  estimate  upon  the  sacred 
pages.  Humanity  is  fallible,  and  man  is  liable  to  fall 
into  many  errors.  The  Koran  had  its  believers,  and 
has  them  now ;  the  Book  of  Mormon  has  its  students 
and  disciples  ;  the  insane  ravings  of  Paine  are  read 


252  THE   YOUNG  MAN'S   FRIEND. 

as  truth  bj  many  around  us,  and  gross  mistakes  some- 
times find  lodgement  in  pious  minds.  I  would  not 
therefore  urge  the  attachment  of  good  men  to  the 
Bible,  as  a  positive  argument  in  favor  of  its  worth, 
but  must  we  not  regard  such  an  attachment  as  strong 
presumptive  proof  that  the  book  is  worthy  of  our 
study  and  belief.  Should  we"  find  the  good  men  of 
this  community  all  arrayed  upon  the  side  of  a  work 
just  issued  from  the  press,  and  the  bad  men  arrayed 
against  it,  should  we  not  have  reason  to  believe  the 
book  a  good  one  ?  Suppose  on  one  side  should  be  the 
man  of  virtue,  the  humble  Christian,  the  good  citizen, 
the  worshipper  of  God,  the  friend  of  truth  ;  and  on 
the  other  side,  should  be  marshalled  the  gambler,  the 
profane  man,  the  libertine,  the  errorist,  the  despiser 
of  God,  the  enemy  of  religion,  should  we  not  at  once 
say,  without  reading  the  book,  that  it  must  have 
something  good  about  it,  else  good  men  would  not 
love  it,  and  bad  men  would  not  oppose  it  ?  The  very 
fact  that  the  two  great  classes  in  society,  were  on  op- 
posite sides  in  relation  to  it,  would  to  some  extent,  at- 
test its  character.  Now  what  book  has  been  loved  more 
fondly  by  good  men,  and  what  book  has  been  more  de- 
cidedly and  hostilely  opposed  by  bad  men,  than  the 
Bible.  While  the  just,  the  lovely,  the  righteous,  have 
endeavored  to  disseminate  its  hallowed  truth,  the 
wicked  have  endeavored  to  crush  it.  To  this  end,  they 
have  passed  laws,  banishing  it  from  great  nations; 


THE   BIBLE   A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  253 

they  have  burned  it  publicly  in  the  streets  ;  they 
have  denied  its  truth,  and  branded  it  as  a  bad  pro- 
duction, until  the  friends  and  enemies  of  the  book  may 
be  known,  by  the  standard  of  their  moral  characters. 
If  we  go  back  in  the  ages  of  the  world  we  shall 
hear  Moses,  speaking  thus  in  the  name  of  God,  of  the 
small  portion  of  the  Bible  then  in  the  possession  of 
men.  "  Lay  up  these  my  words  in  your  heart,  and 
in  your  soul,  and  bind  them  for  a  sign  upon  your 
hand,  that  they  may  be  as  frontlets  between  your 
eyes.  And  ye  shall  teach  them  to  your  children, 
speaking  of  them  when  thou  sittest  in  thine  house, 
and  when  thou  walkest  by  the  way,  when  thou  liest 
down,  and  when  thou  risest  up."  God  speakhig  to 
the  people  through  Joshua  says,  "  This  book  of  the 
law,  shall  not  depart  out  of  thy  mouth ;  but  thou  shalt 
meditate  therein  day  and  night,  that  thou  mayest  ob- 
serve to  do  according  to  all  that  is  written  therein ; 
for  then  thou  shalt  make  thy  Avay  prosperous,  and 
thou  shalt  have  good  success."  David  says,  "  Bless- 
ed is  the  man  that  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the 
ungodly,  nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor  sit- 
teth  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful ;  but  his  delight  is  in 
the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  law  doth  he  meditate 
day  and  night."  "  The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect, 
converting  the  soul ;  the  testimony  of  the  Lord  is 
sure,  making  wise  the  simple."  "  Thy  word  is  a 
lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  light  unto  my  path." 


254  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

"  The  entrance  of  thy  word  giveth  light ;  it  giveth 
understanding  unto  the  simple."  Isaiah  exclaims, 
"  To  the  law,  and  to  the  testimony ;  if  they  speak  not 
according  to  this  Avord,  it  is  because  there  is  no  light 
in  them."  Our  Saviour  says,  "  Sanctify  them  through 
thy  truth ;  thy  word  is  truth"  Paul  says,  "  I  am 
not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ;  for  it  is  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation,  to  every  one  that  be- 
lieveth ;  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Gentiles." 
These  all  speak  as  they  are  moved  upon  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  their  testimony  is  valuable,  because  it  ex- 
presses not  only  the  conviction  of  their  own  hearts,  but 
also  because  it  echoes  the  teachings  of  the  Almighty. 
Descending  from  patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apos- 
tles, we  find  the  "  Fathers,"  cultivating  the  same 
respect  and  veneration  for  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
There  is  a  long  catalogue  of  illustrious  names,  gath- 
ered from  "  olden  times,"  who  made  God's  book  their 
study  and  delight.  High  in  the  estimation  of  the 
church  and  the  world,  they  hesitated  not  to  declare 
their  attachment  to  the  blessed  volume,  which  brings 
life  and  immortality  to  light.  The  learned  Origen. 
the  eloquent  Chrysostom,  the  profound  Augustine, 
with  Cyprian,  Tertullian,  Lactantius,  Arnobus,  and 
all  their  pious  contemporaries,  have  been  found  utter- 
ing unequivocal  and  manly  testimony  to  the  value  of 
a  book,  from  which  they  gathered  the  sublime  princi- 
ples on  which  all  their  writings  were  based. 


THE   BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GUIDE.  255 

Leaving  the  "Fathers,"  we  meet  with  the  good 
men  of  the  middle  centuries,  and  find  them  with  the 
Bible  in  their  hands,  holding  it  with  firm  grasp. 
Even  amid  the  flames  of  martyrdom,  they  renounced 
it  not,  but  declared  it  to  be  the  only  sure  guide  for 
man  in  all  matters  of  religious  faith  and  practice. 
Jerome  of  Prague,  while  the  flames  curled  up 
around  him,  and  the  fagots  sent  forth  their  burning 
heat,  cried  out,  "  Oh,  Lord  God,  thou  knowest  how  I 
have  loved  THY  TRUTH."  John  Huss,  whose  ashes 
after  he  was  consumed,  were  gathered  and  cast  into 
the  Rhine,  died  asserting  the  value  of  the  Bible  as  a 
Divine  revelation,  and  ascended  to  heaven  amid  the 
smoke  of  his  own  funereal  pile,  singing  songs  of  praise. 
Cranmer,  though  not  without  his  errors,  loved  the 
Bible,  and  died  for  it,  and  at  last  presented  unshaken 
firmness,  such  only  as  the  religion  of  the  cross  would 
inspire.  Call  you  for  witness,  to  the  value  of  the 
Bible  ?  The  martyrs  of  ten  centuries  would  come  ; 
from  burning  fagots,  from  bloody  blocks,  from  damp 
cold  prisons,  from  torturing  inquisitions,  and  stand 
before  you,  a  mighty  throng,  uttering  from  their 
bloodless  lips  the  testimony  of  past  ages  in  favor  of 
Inspiration. 

Come  down  to  our  own  times,  and  where  do  we 
find  the  good  and  great  men,  to  whom  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  look  for  words  of  wisdom  ?  They  regard 
the  Bible  with  veneration,  and  make  its  hallowed 


256  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

pages  a  study.  They  turn  from  the  statute-book  of 
nations,  from  the  various  volumes  of  literature  and 
science  to  the  -word  of  God,  and  find  hi  that,  more 
ample  themes  for  contemplation  and  study.  Through 
the  long  life  of  the  venerable  John  Q.  Adams,  he 
made  the  Bible  a  daily  study,  and  never  allowed  a 
day  to  pass  without  consulting  its  sacred  teachings, 
and  doubtless  to  the  truths  of  that  book,  impressed 
upon  his  mind  in  early  life,  he  owed  much  of  the 
greatness  of  his  after  years,  in  all  his  intercourse 
with  men,  he  gave  evidence  that  his  mind  and  heart 
had  come  into  contact  with  the  awful  facts  revealed 
in  the  blessed  volume,  and  from  those  facts,  his  soul 
had  gathered  greatness  and  grandeur.  Nor  was  the 
Sage  of  Quincy  alone  in  his  attachment  to  the  Bible. 
Jackson,  Harrison,  and  Polk  died  animated  and 
cheered  by  the  news  of  salvation,  and  departed  this 
life,  full  of  hope  for  another  which  the  gospel  present- 
ed before  them.  Nor  are  these  alone.  The  records 
of  science,  art,  and  literature,  abound  with  great 
names,  who  have  not  been  ashamed  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus.  I  mention  not  these  instances  supposing  that 
any  glory  is  reflected  upon  the  Bible  by  being  believ- 
ed by  great  men.  That  is  impossible.  As  the  word 
of  God,  the  Bible  stands  far  above  all  human  attempts 
to  honor  or  defame  it,  and  man  can  no  more  confer 
glory  upon  the  Bible,  than  can  some  little  planet 
confer  honor  upon  the  bright  sun  around  which  it 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT   GtttDE.  257 

revolves,  and  from  which  it  receives  its  brilliant 
illumination.  But  the  fact,  that  great  and  good 
men  have  loved  the  Bible,  is  a  source  of  encour- 
agement to  others  of  fewer  years,  and  less  cultivated 
minds. 

2.  The  Bible  has  claims  as  a  look  of  history  and 
literature.  In  no  other  volume  can  we  find  an  au- 
thentic account  of  the  creation  of  the  world.  Histori- 
cal writers  do  not  pretend  to  take  their  readers  back 
to  the  time,  when  the  world  rolled  up  out  of  nothing- 
ness, and  became  a  certain  and  beautiful  planet,  re- 
volving around  the  sun.  They  tell  us  nothing  of  the 
early  wonders  of  nature,  and  we  are  in  darkness  (as 
far  as  they  are  concerned),  in  reference  to  the  primal 
condition  of  our  race.  But  the  historian  of  the  Bible 
has  given  us  a  beautiful,  and  reasonable  account  of  the 
creation  of  land  and  water,  bird  and  beast,  man  and 
woman.  He  has  taken  us  along  to  the  flood,  to  the 
burning  of  Sodom,  to  the  phenomenon  which  attended 
the  exodus  from  Egypt,  to  the  history  of  the  Jewish 
tribes,  and  other  great  events  which  profane  writers 
have  left  untouched.  Nor  does  this  history  consist 
of  a  mass  of  improbable  statements  flung  together,  to 
win  the  confidence  of  the  credulous  and  superstitious. 
There  is  a  beautiful  consistency  in  all  the  Mosaic 
writings,  which  wins  our  confidence  by  appealing  to- 
reason  and  judgment.  The  worth  of  the  Bible  in  this 
respect  is  inestimable,  and  the  Old  Testament  should 
17 


258  THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

have  a  high  place  in  the  library  of  every  student  of 
history. 

Should  some  old  volume  be  found  which  contained 
the  history  of  the  race,  back  to  the  times  of  Abraham 
and  his  contemporaries,  and  that  volume  embodying 
proof  of  its  genuineness ;  with  what  interest  would  it 
be  perused  by  every  literary  man !  It  would  be 
translated  into  many  languages,  and  edition  after  edi- 
tion would  issue  rapidly  from  the  press.  A  book  we 
have,  which  goes  back  to  the  beginning ;  to  the  time 
when  the  earth,  noAV  beautified  and  smiling  with  flow- 
ers, was  formless,  and  covered  with  darkness.  A 
book  we  have,  which  furnishes  us  with  a  concise  his- 
tory of  the  world  from  the  creation  of  the  first  Adam, 
to  the  death  of  the  second  Adam,  and  gives  us  an  in- 
sight into  the  habits,  customs,  and  views  of  men  dur- 
ing the  progress  of  four  thousand  years. 

The  Bible  also  has  specimens  of  logic,  scarcely 
equaled  ;  close  argument,  which  has  never  been  sur- 
passed. The  Epistles  abound  with  close  reasoning, 
and  no  one  who  has  read  them  attentively,  can  be  in- 
sensible to  this  feature.  The  arguments  of  Paul  are 
most' convincing,  and  prove  beyond  controversy,  not 
only  the  strength  of  his  own  mind,  but  also  the 
strength  and  truth  of  the  doctrines  he  taught.  "  The 
Analogy  of  Religion  to  the  Constitution  and  Course 
of  Nature,"  by  Bishop  Butler,  has  been  read  by  many 
a  man,  simply  because  it  is  an  admirable  specimen  of 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.  259 

logic,  a  profound  and  sublime  argument  upon  the  sub- 
ject named.  And  with  equal  propriety,  may  the 
writings  of  Paul  be  read  with  admiration  for  the  force 
and  strength  of  his  logic,  the  beauty  of  his  diction, 
and  the  grandeur  of  his  doctrines. 

The  Bible  also  abounds  with  poetry  of  the  highest 
order.  Almost  one-third  of  the  volume  is  poetry  of 
sublime  character,  and  no  uninspired  man,  in  his  most 
lofty  flight,  ever  ascended  so  high  as  the  monarch-muse, 
and  the  prophet-poet.  There  is  a  peculiar  effect  pro- 
duced by  singing  or  reading  the  poetry  of  the  Bible, 
which  the  poems  of  uninspired  men  fail  to  produce, 
and  they  who  admire  the  strains  of  Bryant,  Longfel- 
low, Hemans,  and  Burns,  or  even  the  greater  poets, 
Shakspeare,  Milton,  Young,  and  Pollock,  and  pass 
by  unread  the  inimitable  poems  of  Isaiah,  David,  and 
Habakkuk,  exhibit  but  little  taste  of  head  or  heart. 
The  man  who  claims  distinction  as  a  scholar,  will  not 
fail  to  be  familiar  with  the  classic  poets.  He  will 
know  something  of  Homer,  Hesiod,  Pindar,  Anacreon, 
Euripides,  and  Sophocles ;  and  can  his  education  be 
complete  without  an  acquaintance  with  the  poetry  of 
the  Hebrew  commonwealth  ?  Can  he  study  Greek 
and  Roman  poets  and  historians,  and  neglect  the 
Bible,  the  most  sublime  of  all  poetry,  the  most  ancient 
of  all  history  ? 

8.  The  Bible  is  a  DIVINE  revelation.  In  this  fact 
consists  its  strength.  We  love  it  for  its  history  and 


THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

poetry,  for  all  the  truth  which  it  contains,  but  if  it 
was  not  a  divinely  inspired  book  it  would  be  compara- 
tively worthless.  But  coming  from  God,  it  is  clothed 
in  robes  of  divinity.  It  gives  no  uncertain  sound, 
but  has  the  authority  of  the  infinite  Jehovah  for  all 
its  teachings. 

I  have  now  presented  the  Bible  as  the  young 
man's  guide,  and  in  bringing  this  series  of  lectures 
to  a  close,  I  would  urge  every  one  to  adopt  the 
inspired  volume  as  the  light  of  his  pathway,  and 
his  constant  companion.  The  young  man  is  going 
out  to  battle  with  the  vices  and  evils  of  life.  The 
Bible  is  the  sword  which  he  is  to  carry  with  him.  If 
he  'takes  worldly  wisdom,  human  systems  of  salvation, 
man-devised  reforms,  he  will  strike  with  his  blunted 
sword  upon  the  sides  of  unwounded  error,  in  vain. 
But  armed  with  the  doctrines  of  salvation,  he  will  be 
a  successful  warrior,  and  meet  unharmed  the  assaults 
of  all  the  foes  of  God  and  man.  Let  then  our  young 
men  gird  on  this  armor  and  use  it  well,  and  never  put 
it  off,  or  lay  it  down,  until  the  battle  is  fought  and  the 
victory  won. 

That  was  a  beautiful  case  of  Leonidas,  who  guard- 
ed the  straits  of  Thermopylae  against  the  armies  of 
Persia.  When  commanded  by  Xerxes  to  lay  down 
his  arms,  the  noble  Spartan  sent  back  the  reply, 
"  Come,  and  take  them."  So  the  young  man  should 
never  be  found  without  his  spiritual  armor,  with  which 


THE  BIBLE  A  PEKFECT  GUIDE.       261 

he  is  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  adver- 
sary. To  every  challenge  given  by  the  hosts  of  sin 
and  death,  he  should  reply,  "  In  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  1  lift  my  banner,"  and  to  every  demand  to  lay 
down  his  arms,  he  should  send  back  the  glorious  an- 
swer, "  Come,  and  take  them."  The  men  who  com- 
posed that  little  Spartan  band  were  slaughtered. 
They  chose  death  in  preference  to  inglorious  submis- 
sion, and  but  one  was  left  to  tell  the  tale.  On  the 
scene  of  the  battle  a  monument  was  erected  to  the 
memory  of  the  fallen  heroes,  and  on  that  monument 
was  an  inscription,  written  by  Simonides :  "  0  stran- 
ger, tell  it  at  Lacedcemon,  that  we  died  here  in  obe- 
dience to  her  laws  /" 

And  when  the  young  man  falls,  doing  battle  for 
the  right,  posterity  will  erect  a  monument  over  his 
grave,  and  inscribe  upon  it,  more  holy  words,  than 
graced  the  monument  of  the  fallen  Spartans.  His 
influence  will  be  felt  on  society  long  after  his  body 
has  corrupted  in  the  grave,  and  his  name  been  lost  to 
the  memory  of  the  busy  throng,  and  from  on  high  he 
will  look  down  upon  the  whitening  harvest,  the  glad 
results  of  the  seed  which  his  own  hands  cast  upon 
the  soil. 

With  a  few  instances,  presented  to  show  the  con- 
trast between  the  death-bed  of  the  believer  and  the 
unbeliever  in  the  Bible,  I  will  end  the  discourse. 

It  is  related  of  the  Emperor  Julian,  that  he  enter- 


262  TEE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

tained  a  mortal  hatred  against  the  religion  of  Je- 
sus, which  he  once  professed,  but  from  which  he 
had  fallen.  To  prove  the  prediction  of  the  Sa- 
viour false,  he  determined  to  rebuild  the  temple; 
but  while  doing  it,  fire  ran  along  the  ground  and  con- 
sumed the  workmen  and  the  materials,  and  the  work 
was  abandoned.  This  failure  increased  his  hatred, 
and  during  his  whole  life  he  exerted  himself  to  the 
utmost  to  crush  religion,  but  was  foiled  hi  every  at- 
tempt. When  wounded  on  the  battle-field,  and  about 
to  die,  he  seemed  to  have  a  view  of  his  own  guilt  and 
wickedness,  and  catching  a  handful  of  blood  from  his 
own  gushing  side,  threw  it  towards  heaven,  exclaim- 
ing, "  0  Galilean,  thou  hast  conquered." 

Thomas  Paine,  of  our  own  times,  was  an  avowed 
unbeliever.  He  lectured  and  wrote  against  the  Bible, 
and  took  every  public  occasion  to  revile  the  Saviour. 
But  when  he  came  to  the  dying  hour,  all  was  terrible. 
In  his  miserable  tenement  at  New  Rochelle,  worn 
down  by  intemperance,  and  attended  by  the  miserable 
woman  whom  he  had  seduced,  he  died  in  torment,  at 
one  time  calling  on  God  for  mercy,  and  at  another 
moment,  cursing  with  awful  blasphemy. 

Francis  Newport,  lived  an  infidel,  and  a  man  of 
pleasure,  but  died  a  death  of  indescribable  anguish. 
The  scenes  of  his  life,  his  efforts  to  crush  the  Bible 
and  the  cross,  all  thronged  around  him,  and  horror- 
stricken,  he  declared  with  parting  breath,  that  hell 


THE  BIBLE  A  PERFECT  GUIDE.  263 

itself  would  be  a  refuge,  if  it  could  hide  him  from  the 
gaze  of  God. 

Having  seen  the  unbeliever  in  the  Bible  die,  hav- 
ing heard  his  doleful  exclamations,  having  listened  to 
his  awful  Avails  of  woe,  go  to  the  dying  couch  of  those 
whose  lives  have  been  formed,  and  whose  hopes  are 
rendered  sure  by  the  promises  and  requirements  of 
God ;  and  how  great  the  difference  will  be  !  In  one 
case,  you  have  had  the  shriek  of  anguish,  the  malig- 
nant blasphemy,  the  horrid  execrations ;  in  the  other 
case,  you  have  calmness,  joy,  peace,  hope,  and  eter- 
nal life. 

Polycarp,  bishop  of  Smyrna,  died  for  the  Bible 
when  he  was  ninety-five  years  of  age.  When  the  fe- 
rocious Roman  rabble  thronged  around  him,  and  he 
was  abjured  to  offer  incense  to  the  heathen  deity,  and 
save  himself  from  fire,  he  meekly  answered,  "lam 
a  Christian,  and  cannot  do  it" 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  when  dying,  said  to  his  son-in- 
law,  "Bring  me  a  book."  "  What  book  ?"  Lockhart 
asked,  with  emotion,  "  Can  you  ask,  my  son,  what 
book  ?  —  there  is  but  one"  said  the  noble  man,  and 
the  BIBLE  was  placed  by  his  side.  Its  hallowed  truth 
glanced  in  lines  of  light  all  around  him  when  he  died, 
and  amid  its  brilliancy  he  departed. 

President  Edwards  died,  saying  to  his  friends  who 
anxiously  thronged  around  him,  "  Trust  in  God,  trust 
in  Grod."  He  realized  how  precious  it  is,  to  lean 
upon  the  strong  arm  of  the  infinite  One. 


264       .          THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  FRIEND. 

I  have  done.  As  you  go  out  to-day  to  a  conflict 
with  life,  my  young  brothers,  to  whom  I  have  espe- 
cially spoken,  let  the  Bible  be  your  guide  through 
duty  and  danger ;  your  companion  in  the  dark  hours 
of  adversity,  and  beneath  the  genial  influences  of 
prosperity ;  your  friend  in  life ;  your  support  in  the 
hour  of  death.  Called  as  you  are  to  breast  the  waves 
of  vice,  you  will  need  a  perfect  armor ;  a  sword  whose 
edge  will  never  be  blunted,  but  will  cleave  asunder 
the  rocky  heart  of  sin.  The  Bible  is  that  armor, 
that  sword  is  the  everlasting  truth.  With  it  in  your 
possession,  you  will  conquer.  Go  forth  strong-handed, 
and  strong-hearted  to  a  conflict  with  all  life's  ills,  and 
before  you  the  hosts  of  sin  will  yield.  Let  your  life 
be  such  that  you  can  say  in  dying, 

"  I  have  liv'd,  and  have  not  lived  in  vain ; 

My  mind  may  lose  its  force,  my  blood  its  fire, 
And  my  frame  perish  even  in  conquering  pain —    . 
But  there  is  that  within  me  which  shall  tire 
Torture  and  time,  and  breath,  when  I  expire." 


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